Wild Wild West 1. Chapter 1

**The Wild Wild West**

**The Night of the Airship**

**By Lucky_Ladybug**

**Notes: The characters from the show (and other shows) aren't mine. Any remaining characters and the story are! This follows the timeline I started in **_**The Night of the Lazarus**_**, but while it continues the basic storyline, it will likely be more self-contained than **_**The Night of the Time Travel**_** and **_**The Night of the Deadly Codename**_** are. The most important notation is that some of the assorted characters from the episodes **_**The Night of the Sudden Plague**_** and **_**The Night of the Poisonous Posey**_** are around as main characters, and some of them are on friendly terms with Jim and Arte after the adventures they had in the prior stories. Also prominent as a protagonist is a character from the **_**Hear No Evil**_** episode of **_**Cannon.**_

**Chapter One**

_Somewhere in the Western United States, circa 1874_

"Dr. Loveless! Come back here!"

Artemus Gordon's voice echoed hopelessly over the jagged rocks and mountains of the Southwestern desert. There was no response and of course, he knew there wouldn't be. Once again, Dr. Miguelito Loveless had vanished upon the failure of his latest scheme.

The galloping of hooves signaled the arrival of James West. Artemus turned to look at his longtime partner and friend in the moonlight.

"It's no use, Jim," he said in discouraged exasperation. "Loveless is gone—just plain _gone!_" He gripped the reins, his horse's ears twitching at the conversation.

"As he usually is," Jim intoned with a frown. "Arte, we'll just have to be satisfied with having stopped him from turning the entire United States into a desert."

"And that's no small consolation," Arte hurried to interject. "I just wish that we could get him behind bars once and for all. There's no telling what he'll come up with next!"

Jim nodded. "Whatever it is, we'll just have to stop him again when he brings it out." He turned his black gelding away from the scene. "Let's get back to town, Arte. We still have to go through the rest of his laboratory equipment."

"What do you want to bet that before we can get that far, the whole thing will explode?" Arte countered as he directed his horse to follow Jim's.

"Arte, you're becoming entirely too cynical," Jim said, but he was only half-joking. He knew that Dr. Loveless would not want to leave all of his latest secrets out for the Secret Service to go through.

Indeed, before they had traveled much farther, a treacherous _boom_ rocked the desert floor and a burst of flaming colors appeared in the distance.

Arte nodded, looking to the blast. "And just what do you call that?" he said with a knowing gesture.

"One demolished laboratory," Jim said flatly.

"Exactly." Arte looked to him. "Do you want to go through the rubble, by any chance?"

"We should, just in case something important survived." Jim started off again, heading for the smoking crater.

With a sigh, Arte followed.

"I wonder how everyone else is doing back in the 21st Century," he mused. "I wish we were there now too, enjoying the amenities of the Oak Bridge Golf Club, instead of preparing to go through Dr. Loveless's newest contribution to the world of expired buildings."

"So do I," Jim answered.

It had been a strange freak accident courtesy of Dr. Faustina that had sent Jim, Arte, and a concourse of past enemies and allies through a portal and into the year 2012. They had discovered a new and exciting future, and while most of the group had opted to live there either permanently or semi-permanently, Jim and Arte had chosen to return to their lives in 1874. They visited whenever possible—or whenever a case called them there. Arte had still not found the time to make the portal invisible and unusable to the general populace. Every now and then, someone unknowingly wandered through either to the past or the future. Some of Jim and Arte's visits consisted of returning frightened and bewildered people who stumbled into 1874—or retrieving people who entered 2012 and now 2013.

A smoking crater was just about all that was left of Dr. Loveless's latest hideout when Jim and Arte arrived. Jim lowered himself to the ground and began to walk amidst the debris, holding a lantern high to inspect whatever fragments might have survived. Arte did the same, moving in a separate direction. Soon they managed to circle the site and return to their starting point.

"Well, I guess that about does it," Arte sighed. "Let's go, Jim. Maybe we can get back to the hotel in time for a nice, relaxing soak in the tub before bed." He grimaced, placing a hand on his lower back.

But Jim had caught sight of something. He frowned, bending down with the lantern and reaching for the object.

Surprised, and dreading the results of said surprise, Arte stepped closer. "What is it?"

Jim lifted a small piece of paper that was already crumbling in his palm. "I don't know," he said. "But I don't like the looks of it."

Arte leaned over, squinting at the remnants. "There's only one word still legible," he said. "_Raven._ What's so unsettling about that?"

Jim straightened, still keeping hold of the fragment. "There was an organization of criminals and renegades called Raven," he said. "It disappeared after the leader escaped. But I always had the feeling I'd be hearing from them again someday."

"Oh, that's right," Arte blinked. "I remember now—you made a report on it. You and Frank Harper had the case while I was stuck in Washington." He shook his head. "I'm telling you, Jim, that was one of the strangest reports that ever crossed Colonel Richmond's desk. Crooked eye doctors! Hypnotizing kinetoscopes! An overly intelligent man with a big head and a pet raven!"

"I know, Arte. I know. But it all happened. And Tycho, the overly intelligent man, got away." Jim frowned at the scrap of paper. ". . . What do you think would happen if he and Dr. Loveless ever met?"

"James, don't say such things!" Arte exclaimed. "You'll give me nightmares in my sleep for a week! From the way you described Tycho, I would have to say that any meeting between him and Dr. Loveless would be a complete and utter disaster."

Jim nodded. "It would be." He turned, heading for his horse.

Arte hastened after him. "Are you trying to say you think maybe that meeting _has _happened?"

Jim glanced over his shoulder. "I don't know, Arte. I _can't_ say. Not based on one piece of paper that says _Raven._ But it's something to think about."

"I'd rather not think about it, thank you very much," Arte declared.

The two agents got back on their steeds and rode towards town, troubled both by the events of the evening and by Jim's newfound suspicions.

Neither had any idea that they were about to plunge into a new and alarming mystery—and that several of their friends would become prey to its darkest elements.

_Gardena, Los Angeles County, circa 2013_

"Alright, Dixie. See if you can beat this hand."

"I already have."

The gravelly-voiced Southerner smirked at his opponent as he laid down his cards. This would be his biggest win of the evening, and he intended to stop here, while he was ahead. He had been a professional gambler years ago, and though he had only recently adopted that line of work again, he had proved to himself that he was still good at it.

It was strange, he mused to himself as he drew the winnings over and began loading the chips and change and cash into his hat. He had never once thought that he would end up here, in this odd little corner of Los Angeles where casino-style gambling was legal. Until a few months ago, he had been sure that he would meet his end via one of the criminal organizations he had fallen in with—or by destroying a doomsday device set to eliminate most of the world's population. He had finally proven his worth to others and to himself with the latter act, and had decided to make an effort to turn his life around, at least somewhat. And although he still made mistakes and slipped back now and then, he hadn't been doing too badly.

Moments later he had cashed in and was heading for the door. But just as he reached it, someone else drew it open and entered, nearly crashing into him.

"Hey!" he snapped. "Watch where you're going, Pal."

"I beg your pardon?" The other voice was annoyed, arrogant, and gravelly with a British accent.

The gambler frowned and stopped, really looking at the man who had almost plowed into him. And although he tried not to stare, he really couldn't help it. Several other people nearby were staring as well.

The newcomer did not seem surprised. "I see some things haven't changed in the course of the last 139 years," he declared. "You relatively normal humans—that is, normal by your own subversive, miniscule standards—can't refrain from gaping at anyone who doesn't fit into your precious little patterns."

"I . . . I'm just surprised, is all," the gambler retorted. "I don't mean no disrespect."

The stranger studied him for a moment and then smiled, a dark, unsettling smile. "No, I don't think you do," he said. "You, after all, don't fit into a pattern either, do you? Not with that noticeable disfiguration on your face."

The gambler clapped a hand over his left cheek. "I didn't always have this," he muttered.

"Of course not. It's a scar from some old injury. A wound from a burning knife, perhaps?" The stranger rocked back, satisfied. "I, however, have indeed always been the way you see me now. But it only means that I have twice the mental capacity of you or any other 'normal' human."

The gambler frowned. "Are you trying to say that the reason your . . . uh . . . head's so big is because you've got more brain-power?"

"Exactly." The stranger's eyes lit up. "I immediately deduced, for example, that I have stepped into a new and strange world—the future. And I say this to you because you also stepped over once, didn't you?" He indicated the other's clothing. "Your manner of dress is fitting for a riverboat gambler in the 1860s. But as you can see, you and I are the only ones attired differently from everyone else in this establishment."

The gambler slowly smirked. "You're lucky you didn't just walk into a convention."

"A convention?" The stranger looked confused. "Of what?"

The gambler had to admit, he took a certain pleasure in seeing this character's arrogant mask falter. "Of people from this time period walking around dressed like us," he said smugly.

"They actually do that?" The stranger frowned. "Why would they regress in that manner instead of progressing with their times?"

The gambler shrugged. "They usually do. But sometimes I guess they think the good old days sound better than what they've got here and they want to make like they lived then instead of now."

"How pointless," the stranger sniffed.

"Whatever makes them happy." The gambler crossed his arms. "You've never said who you are."

"Nor have you. And since I am the newcomer here, I believe you should reveal your identity first."

The gambler didn't feel up to arguing. "Snakes Tolliver."

"Ah, I see. A moniker derived from that scar on your face." The stranger looked pleased again. "You may call me Tycho."

"Okay. What is it you want, Tycho?"

"I wish to know if you've seen a man called Dr. Miguelito Loveless," Tycho said.

Snakes froze. "The mad scientist?! No, I've never met him."

Tycho nodded, displeased. "He should have found his way here by now. I suppose I will have to retrace my steps looking for him." He started to turn to leave.

Snakes grabbed for his arm. "Hey, wait!" Tycho stiffened. "What do you want him for?"

Tycho slowly looked back, his eyes dark and cold. "Unhand me."

Snakes jerked his hand away. "I just asked you a question."

"I do not permit myself to be manhandled, by anyone. And as for my business with Dr. Loveless, you will know that soon enough." Tycho started to smirk. "If you have any thoughts of getting in our way, I can promise you that your end will be very unpleasant and very final. Goodnight, Mr. Tolliver."

Snakes stood stock still, gaping after the bizarre visitor as he turned and haughtily walked out of the casino. His heart thumped faster, a sign of his shaken and disturbed feelings from Tycho's parting words. Snakes had found his honor, but that did not mean he had stopped fearing torture and death altogether.

"What's going on here?"

Snakes started and turned at the sound of the casino owner's voice. Slim Marcus had just stepped out of his office, accompanied by a concerned hostess.

"Mr. Tolliver, am I to understand that a strange man just walked in here and threatened you?"

"Uh . . ." Snakes looked from him to the girl. "Yeah," he said at last. "Yeah, he did."

"He won't be allowed in here again. I'll make you a promise of that," Slim vowed. "I hope this experience won't dampen your interest in coming here."

"Thanks," Snakes stammered. "No, it won't. I'll be back."

"Good," Slim nodded and relaxed. "Marcia here managed to discreetly take his picture with her cellphone. I'll have a copy given to every staff member." Again he looked somewhat tense. "Do you . . . want the police called in?"

"No," Snakes said quickly. "No, that's okay."

Relief flickered in Slim's eyes. Snakes knew why—Slim was an ex-convict, trying to put together the shattered pieces of his life. If the police were called in, for whatever reason, it could reflect rather badly on Slim.

In some ways, Snakes could feel for the guy. Slim had been in prison after framing some young girl for a death he had accidentally caused during a struggle for a gun. Not thinking clearly about the fact that he had only tried to protect himself, he had panicked and felt that the thing to do was to cast blame for the death on someone else. He had regretted it almost immediately, leading to an emotional and guilt-ridden confession in court after being attacked by his former business partner.

Snakes could relate to the overwhelming feelings of fear for one's life that led to stupid things such as what Slim had done in framing that girl—and what Snakes had done in trying to eliminate the entire Posey gang before they could kill him.

Nevertheless, it was largely for his own reasons that he rejected the idea of calling the police in now. He was still living under the radar for the most part, with hardly anyone aware that he did not actually belong in this time. If the police got involved chasing some nut who was also not from this time, the whole truth could come out and be very bad for not only Snakes, but also the others who had chosen to settle in this time to live.

"I'll just be going now," Snakes said hurriedly. "I'll be back soon, like always."

He stepped into the Los Angeles night, hailing a cab as it passed by the casino. He climbed into the back, glad that he had not needed to wait a long time for one.

"Where to, Bud?" the driver asked.

"Oak Bridge Golf Club," Snakes answered. Ray Norman or Coley Rodman might still be up. And if they were, they needed to know about the encounter with Tycho as soon as possible.

Jim West and Artemus Gordon needed to know about it, too. But Snakes had no idea where they were at the moment.

However, knowing them, they would probably be along any time now. Everyone knew that Dr. Loveless was their arch-enemy. If he had wandered into the present day along with Tycho, it wouldn't take Jim and Arte long to figure it out and track him here.

Snakes sighed, leaning back in the seat. It would be a long drive to Oak Bridge, which was at the foothills of the mountains. By that time, who knew what else might have gone wrong.

_It's probably about time for me to invest in a cellphone,_ he decided to himself.

xxxx

"Coley, why do you let that cat lay on you?"

Coley Rodman, former outlaw and current head of security, sleepily grunted at his friend and old second-in-command Lafe. He was lying on a couch in the Oak Bridge library. Jane, a steadily purring silver Persian, was lying on Coley's left side.

"She does what she wants," he mumbled.

"You could just stop her," Lafe remarked.

Coley shrugged. "I tell her to cut it out if I've had enough."

Lafe shook his head and sat on the edge of a coffee table. "In some ways, Coley, you really are different," he commented.

"Yeah, I guess." Coley rolled onto his back, lifting Jane into his arms at the same time. She was agreeable, purring louder and closing her eyes in bliss. "You've been here for a while now. Do you still like it?"

"Yeah, I like it. It's different, and I don't think I'll ever get used to how fast these new transportation things go, but I like it okay." Lafe hesitated.

If Coley wasn't around, Lafe was sure that he would go back to his own time. He was still not fully sold on going straight, even though he had agreed to a trial run of working as one of Coley's security guards. Nor was he fully sold on the modern world. It would be a sweet set-up if he was still robbing towns, but when it came to living honest he just couldn't figure out what to do with the place.

"Lafe . . ." Coley sat up, placing Jane on his lap. "Are you really happy being here? I know you were disappointed by how that meeting turned out. I am too. But we both half-expected it."

Lafe sighed. "None of the others wanted to come, Coley. They all thought we were crazy."

"You thought that too, at first," Coley pointed out. "Maybe now that you've put the idea in their heads, some of them will change their minds after a while. It's another option for them, one they didn't know they had before you told them."

"Maybe." But Lafe didn't sound hopeful. "I guess I . . . I wonder how you adjusted so well. I know it's probably because of Ray."

"It was also that I was ready for a change," Coley said. "And I didn't care if that change came in another time and place." He nodded thoughtfully, a bit sadly. "I think that's the problem right there—you _weren't_ ready for a change. You came here to work because of me, not you."

Lafe frowned. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"West and Gordon managed to get those warrants out on you dropped, since you helped in trying to save the world at Christmastime," Coley said. "You could go back, if you really wanted. And if you went straight there."

"I guess I don't know if I could do it there," Lafe admitted. "Coley, I . . . I'd really rather stay here. It's just that I . . . wish I fit in better. I still can't figure out some of these crazy new inventions."

Coley smirked, dryly. "I can't figure out some of them, either. But look, Lafe." He sobered. "We're always going to stick out at least somewhat. We have to. We're from another time. We were raised different, with ideas that a lot of people here think are old-fashioned now. And as much as we try to fit into things here, that's not going to change. Anyway, I hope it doesn't. I'm part of two worlds and I've accepted that. If you're going to live here, you have to accept it too."

Lafe considered that. "That makes sense," he admitted. "You always did figure out how to make things sound logical."

"Good." Coley started to stand, holding Jane. "It's late. I'd better get Jane back to Mrs. Featherstone."

"And I'd better check in with the security room, make sure everything's quiet," Lafe said, getting up as well.

But before either of them could move, Ray rushed into the room, stunned and bewildered. "Something's hovering over the golfing green!" he cried.

Coley stared. "What do you mean, something's hovering?" he frowned. "How come we didn't hear any noise?"

"There isn't any!" Ray exclaimed. "One of the security guards saw it suddenly show up on the screen just now, coming down on the green, and I ran into him when he was coming to tell you!"

Coley set Jane on the floor. "So what kind of thing is it?"

Ray shook his head. "That's something else bizarre. It looks like a zeppelin!"

That was a new word on both Coley and Lafe. They gave Ray equally blank looks. "What's a zeppelin?" Lafe wondered.

"A solid airship," Ray said. "The place where the fuel goes isn't like a giant balloon, as it is in a blimp." Occupied, he turned and hurried towards the back exit, leading onto the beginning of the green.

Coley and Lafe were still fairly baffled. They chased after Ray, not noticing that Jane was scampering at their heels.

They all stopped short and stared in disbelief when Ray flung open the door. Indeed, a very large, very strange object was hovering just above the grass. And a little man was standing on the grass in front of it, flanked by several vicious men.

"Good evening, gentlemen," he greeted with a smile.

"Who are you?!" Coley demanded. His hand started to travel near his gun. While he was not concerned about the little man, he was definitely concerned about the rough hoods he had brought with him.

"My name is Dr. Miguelito Loveless," was the reply. "You know Mr. West; I'm sure he's talked about me."

"He has," Ray said. "And he hasn't had much of anything good to say. What are you doing here?!"

"Why, I thought I'd bring my new invention to show him," Dr. Loveless smiled.

"He isn't here," Ray retorted. "And as I recall from history, you didn't invent the zeppelin."

Dr. Loveless's eyes burned. "I didn't make it available to everyone, but yes, Mr. Norman, I invented it!" he declared. "I can't help that later on, someone else had the same basic idea! Without, I might add, some of the improvements I have made to this particular one."

"Alright, nevermind." Ray crossed his arms. "Mr. West and Mr. Gordon aren't here."

"Oh, I know they aren't." Dr. Loveless started to chuckle. "But I'll get them here, with your help. Step aboard, please." His thugs raised their guns threateningly, pointing them at the group.

Coley grabbed his gun. "What if we don't?" His eyes narrowed. "I've got guards all around this place." Even as he spoke, the security guards were attempting to move in on the scene, tense and bewildered by the display.

"Yes, but I can easily tell George or Butch to shoot one of you if your guards try to make another move," Dr. Loveless said calmly. "You're all expendable, gentlemen; you could all be killed. Mr. West wouldn't have to know that I was holding corpses hostage."

Ray stiffened. "He'd come to you without you having to take us first!" he cried.

"He would, but I have other reasons why it would be profitable for me to have you as my prisoners." Dr. Loveless looked from him to Coley to Lafe, still entirely and eerily calm. "Well? Which shall it be?"

Coley clenched his teeth. They were not outnumbered, but the guns were pointed right at them. Still, he didn't trust anything this madman could say or do. "We'll take you on anyway," he said coldly.

"Oh, that's the wrong decision, Mr. Rodman," Dr. Loveless said, wagging a finger at him.

Two security guards lunged from each side, aiming to take down the thugs. The cruel men turned, firing at the same time as the guards. As Coley and Lafe rushed in as well, another man fired, catching Lafe on the side of the head. He staggered back, dazed.

Coley caught him, sickened. "Lafe!"

"I'm okay," Lafe mumbled. "It just grazed me as it went past." But he grimaced, bringing a hand up to gingerly touch the scratch.

Coley looked to Dr. Loveless, his eyes dark and dangerous. "You're going to regret this," he vowed.

"Perhaps," Dr. Loveless replied, "but I'm not worried. These men are professional pirates. And they're every bit as ruthless and wicked as the pirates from the 18th Century. Don't test them further, Mr. Rodman."

Ray stepped forward, his stomach twisting. "Even if we go with you, what guarantees do we have that we'll eventually be set free?"

Dr. Loveless's expression darkened. "I am not a liar, Mr. Norman! And surely Mr. West has told you that, as well."

"He said you have a twisted kind of honor," Coley said. "But I don't believe it. Anyone who comes up with the kinds of plots you do, to kill off most of the human race, can't really have any honor deep down."

"Ohhh! You're wrong, you're wrong, you're _wrong!_" Dr. Loveless shrilled.

Trying to get his temper under control, he drew a shaking breath. "You'll find out the truth, Mr. Rodman," he declared now, his voice lowering in a deadly manner. "You don't have any choice but to come with me. The next time one of these men attacks, it won't just be to injure. It will be to kill."

Coley looked to Lafe, who was dizzily holding a cloth to the side of his head. He looked to the pirates. He recognized the look in their eyes—the look of murder.

". . . Alright," he said. "We'll go with you."

Maybe they could find a way to mutiny in the air. And on the ground, he knew the guards would contact the authorities and try everything they could to get this madness stopped.

Dr. Loveless smiled. "Excellent. Then come aboard, please."

The airship lowered the rest of the way. As the hatch opened, Coley, Ray, and Lafe walked slowly towards it, up the stairs, and inside. The enemy guns remained on all sides throughout their journey, making certain no one stepped out of line. Satisfied, Dr. Loveless followed behind. But he was not the last one aboard.

Stubborn and determined, Jane chased the men onto the stairs and inside the structure. They were in danger and she was not going to leave them. Mrs. Featherstone would understand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_Somewhere in the Western United States, circa 1874_

It was more than nice to finally return to the hotel in the little town nearest to Dr. Loveless's bombed-out laboratory. One thing Arte had come to greatly enjoy was that it seemed no matter how small or out-of-the-way a town was, its hotel was always a grand and modern building. They didn't always have all the amenities, but this one did. He and Jim were each able to have one of those refreshing baths that Arte had been dreaming about. And after a late dinner, they were back in their room, trying to settle down and rest before the active day that would commence upon awakening.

Only sleep was not willing to come to Arte as soon as he wished. Instead he kept thinking about the events of the day—tracking Loveless down, having their usual standoff with their arch-enemy, listening to him and Antoinette sing before enacting their plot. . . .

He adjusted the pillow, placing his arm under it with a frown. Jim was still concerned about the piece of paper with _Raven_ on it. And after Jim had explained himself, it really did seem like a matter of concern. There had been no sign of Tycho in the laboratory, and asking around town hadn't netted any results either, but then again, Tycho always had been known for keeping to the shadows. He could have been hiding out somewhere in the building and escaped before the explosion. Maybe he and Loveless were planning to meet somewhere else to try again.

And just where would they meet in this desert wilderness? After this town, there were only scattered stops for the next couple of hundred miles. They could potentially meet up in any one of them, but what if they wanted to meet as far away from the scene of this crime as possible?

Arte cringed. "Jim?"

"What is it, Arte?"

Arte rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow, looking across the room to where Jim was in the other hotel room's bed. The only light was coming from the moon outside the window, but it was enough to see Arte's concern as well as Jim's sleepy curiosity.

"Now you've got _me_ imagining terrible things," Arte bemoaned. "Jim, how far are we from Justice?"

Jim frowned. "Fifty . . . one hundred miles. Why?"

"We've worried about what would happen if Dr. Loveless stumbled over that portal in the desert," Arte said. "If he runs far enough North, this time he really might find it."

Jim's expression darkened. "Well, there's nothing we can do about it until morning," he said at last. "But you've got a good point, Arte. It's just possible he could locate it this time. Maybe we should ride directly out there and go through the portal to find out. If he's loose in 2013, no one in the future will be safe."

"Not to mention the future itself," Arte added. "Oh, I don't think I'll be getting any sleep tonight."

"Do your best, Arte. You'll need the rest for the long day tomorrow," Jim replied.

Arte sighed and sank back into the pillow. "At least thanks to the railroad expansion we'll be able to ride the _Wanderer_ most of the way," he mumbled.

"That's the spirit," Jim said as he laid down as well.

But in spite of Jim's words, he was having trouble sleeping himself. He had trained himself to catch whatever sleep he could when he could, not knowing when or where his next opportunity would come. And still, annoyingly and aggravatingly, he could not seem to make sleep come now.

Arte _did_ have a good point. And it wasn't even just Loveless they had to worry about; there was still the possibility of Tycho's involvement. Maybe if Loveless didn't find the portal, Tycho would. Or maybe both of them would.

What if they had even discovered it before and had been planning something monstrous and huge ever since? Perhaps whatever Loveless had been doing here was only a prelude to the real scheme.

Jim frowned deeply. If Loveless had discovered the portal sometime before, would he have really not mentioned it earlier that day? He took such delight in detailing his findings to Jim.

On the other hand, however, he certainly didn't always reveal everything at once. Maybe he had been saving the revelation for later, a last laugh even in the case of Jim and Arte winning this round.

He certainly hadn't said anything like that, though. He had simply run away.

And then Jim stiffened. Maybe Loveless had left a message or some other notification back at the laboratory, bragging about the portal and whatever he might intend to do on the other side of it. Or maybe he had planned to personally communicate in the lab with Jim and Arte, via some new communication device of his invention, perhaps similar to the television set.

What if he _hadn't_ planned to blow up the lab? What if someone else—Tycho, perhaps—had done it because he _didn't_ want Jim and Arte to learn of the next phase of the plan?

The more Jim considered it, the more likely it seemed. While Dr. Loveless could not get enough of bragging of his plots to Jim, Tycho would probably find it a very stupid move, telling so much to the enemy. The two would not get along well at all. Each had a huge ego and his own ideas of how the world should be conquered.

And in the other time, with a little research, Dr. Loveless could learn of Jim and Arte's friends there. All of them could be in particular danger. One thing he and Tycho might agree on would be that Jim and Arte's friends should be used to bring about their latest evil.

Jim turned onto his side, sleep at last beginning to overtake him now that he had worked out these concerning theories in his mind. Yes, they had definitely better check the portal as soon as possible in the morning. It was just possible that he and Arte had started to peel back the layers on what was now happening with the mad doctor.

And if they were right, things were even graver than they had at first believed.

_Above the skies of Los Angeles, circa 2013_

Coley hated himself for what he had done.

He had consented to get his best friends into this mess, feeling that they would have a better chance for escape in the air and not during a standoff on the ground.

He had done what he had felt was the lesser of two evils, and yet . . . now they were the hostages of a mad scientist.

Lafe was stumbling to a couch in the fancily furnished main lounge of the airship, lying down with the cloth over the side of his head. He still looked dizzy from where the pirate's bullet had grazed him. Ray was standing nearby, watching him in concern and looking noticeably tense.

Coley swore in his mind. He hated mad scientists, but Ray downright feared them. This was the worst possible place for Ray to be.

He went to the blond man. "How are you holding up?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"I . . ." Ray shook his head. "I'll be alright. I'm worried about Lafe."

"He'll be alright," Coley said gruffly. "Ray, I'm sorry." He looked down. "I didn't know what else to do. I figured you and Lafe would both be killed if I didn't agree to do what that nut wanted."

"We probably would have been," Ray said. "And you, too." He turned to face Coley. "Coley, I don't blame you for this. It was a horrible situation, with every decision leading to something unholy. You did what you thought was right. You saved our lives, and now we'll hopefully still have a chance to get out of this situation."

"Yeah . . . but can you stand it until then?" Coley frowned. "The guy's a crazy doc."

Ray drew a shuddering breath. "I'll have to stand it," he said. "Anyway, I'm more worried about you and Lafe." He smiled weakly. "That's one thing about caring for others—you're more worried for them than yourself."

"Except you have to worry for yourself too," Coley pointed out, "because if anything happened to you, the people you care about would be hurt."

"I didn't know you were so philosophical, Coley," Lafe mumbled from the couch.

Coley looked to him. "Are you okay, Lafe?" he asked in concern. "I thought any dizziness from that bullet would be starting to go away by now, if it really only scratched you the way we thought."

"I'm not dizzy from the bullet." Lafe sighed. "Remember how I don't like most transportation? I don't think I like air travel, either."

"Uh oh." Ray frowned. "They must have some kind of medication around here for that."

"I'll ask," Coley determined.

"I don't know, Coley," Lafe said. "I don't really take to the thought of having anything around here."

"I don't really like it, either," Coley admitted. "But I think the doc really wants us alive, if possible. He could've just shot us all whether we came along willingly or not, but he didn't. And if we're going to try to bust out of here, we have to keep our strength up."

Lafe sighed. "It makes sense, I guess, but still. . . ." He shuddered. "What's to keep him from experimenting on us while we're here?"

Ray went rigid at the voicing of his own fears. Coley laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know what to tell you, Lafe," he admitted. "Only that West didn't say anything about this doc experimenting on people."

"There's a first time for everything," Lafe frowned.

"Maybe not in this case," Coley replied.

He glanced to Ray. All the possibilities needed to be examined; Coley was not one to shove things under the carpet and Ray liked that about him. But at the same time, when they were already unsettled enough about their situation, he didn't want to see the idea of experimentation take over their thoughts. That could drive Ray out of his mind, agonizing about when and where it might happen to one of them.

Lafe fell silent, considering what he had said, and then looked to Ray with a bit of guilt in his eyes. "Gee, I'm sorry," he mumbled. He was, of course, aware that Ray had been tortured by a mad scientist in the past. It was not a subject that was brought up much, and since he and Coley had also had unfavorable dealings with mad scientists, Lafe had thought about that first instead of Ray's experiences.

"No, you're right," Ray sighed. "It's possible. I'm just desperately clinging to the idea that Mr. West was right and nothing like that will happen to us." He ran a hand through his hair. "But we'll have to be prepared for anything."

A meow made both him and Coley freeze. "Oh no!" Ray gasped, at the same time Coley exclaimed, "You've got to be kidding me!"

Jane was looking up at them from the floor.

Coley slapped his forehead. "How did you get here?" he demanded. "Mrs. Featherstone is going to be worried sick!"

Jane merowed in response.

Ray shook his head. "She must have been worried about us," he said.

Coley pushed back his hat. "Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," he said. "We'll just have to hope these guys don't like hurting cats." His eyes darkened. He would hurt them if any of them tried. Jane would probably hurt them, too.

"The cat's here?" Lafe turned, looking over the edge of the couch. Jane looked back.

"Yeah, the cat's here," Coley growled. He bent down, petting Jane's head. "Crazy cat. What do you think you're going to do here?"

Jane meowed, nuzzling his hand.

"Just keep out of sight," Coley told her. "Hide under the couch if the crazy doc or his pirates come in."

Lafe watched, sinking back into the couch cushions. He had long ago learned not to question it when Coley spoke to Jane as though she understood. Eerily enough, it often seemed like she did.

Indeed, when footsteps were heard approaching the lounge, Jane dived under the couch. Coley straightened, looking towards the doorway with narrowed eyes.

"Well," said Dr. Loveless with a smile as he arrived, "I trust that you're enjoying your accommodations."

"Lafe isn't," Coley said flatly. "He's airsick. Do you have anything for that?"

"Of course, Mr. Rodman," Dr. Loveless answered calmly. "And unlike those medications that others have developed, mine doesn't come with side effects." He turned to a woman who was coming to the doorway with him. "Antoinette, bring one of those motion sickness pills and a glass of water for our guest."

Antoinette nodded and turned, departing as swiftly and as quietly as she had come.

Lafe twisted around again, peering at Dr. Loveless over the arm of the couch. "_You_ made the thing she's bringing?"

"Naturally," Dr. Loveless said with pride. "I've made countless inventions that would help mankind."

"You just don't feel like you want to give them to everybody," Coley said.

"No, Mr. Rodman, I don't, for the precise reason that 'everybody' doesn't deserve them!" Dr. Loveless proclaimed. Then, as quickly as his rant had begun, it ended.

_Just as well, _Ray thought to himself. But he had the bad feeling that one of these times, something was going to set the doctor off for a much longer period of time.

"Aside from that problem, how are you and Mr. Norman feeling?" Dr. Loveless queried, now calm once more.

"We don't like being held against our will," Coley said. "This ride would be a lot more enjoyable if we could say how long it lasts."

Dr. Loveless clucked his tongue. "Now, now, so impatient, Mr. Rodman! Just sit back and enjoy it anyway. Mr. West will come, and after that, you may leave."

Coley wasn't so sure. And in any case, it could take Jim a long time to even find out about what had happened. He wasn't about to put all of his hopes on Jim.

"Why do you want Mr. West to come so badly?" Ray frowned. "Are you trying to kill him again?"

Dr. Loveless looked affronted. "Mr. West and I are old friends!" he declared. "I just want to have a little chat."

Coley certainly did not believe _that._ But he had no chance to challenge that statement, as Antoinette returned at that moment.

"Here's the pill and the water," she announced.

"Oh, very good, Antoinette," Dr. Loveless said. "Be a dear and take them to the gentleman on the couch, won't you?"

Antoinette complied, crossing the room to the couch and holding the items out to Lafe. He sat up, giving her an amazed and suspicious look as he took them.

"Why are _you_ traveling with him?" he asked. "And is this pill really going to make me feel better?"

"Of course it is," Antoinette retorted. "And as for why I travel with Miguelito, why shouldn't I? I want to be here. Besides, he needs me."

Lafe frowned, but slowly slipped the pill into his mouth and downed the glass of water. "It just seems like you'd have better things to do with your life," he said.

She smiled. "I'm doing the best thing I could."

From Coley's expression, he clearly felt that she was out of her head. But he said nothing, instead watching her intently as she went back to the doorway.

"You should start feeling the effects of the pill within five minutes," Dr. Loveless said to Lafe.

"I hope so," Lafe mumbled.

"Well," Dr. Loveless continued, "I'll leave the three of you to continue exploring your surroundings. Feel free to sample food and drink from the icebox in the corner. But if you try to leave this room, you'll need an escort to see the rest of the airship." He indicated Butch, a particularly mean-looking pirate with crossed arms, bulging muscles, and a handlebar mustache. "Butch will be here on the other side of the door if you wish to travel."

Ray eyed the strongman with definite unease. "We'll . . . ah . . . be sure to remember that," he said awkwardly.

Butch smirked.

Dr. Loveless nodded, satisfied. "Good evening, gentlemen. We'll speak again later." He turned and walked out. The door slid shut behind him.

"Good evening," Coley muttered sarcastically.

He looked around the lounge, hoping for some idea as to how they could begin to plot their escape. Unfortunately, they really couldn't until they knew some key things about the operation, including exactly how many pirates were on board.

"The furnishings are kind of fascinating," Ray said, obviously trying to think about something other than the fact that they were being held hostage by an insane, angry man. "The decor looks Victorian."

Coley nodded, absently. The theme was red; the carpet, walls, and most of the furniture were bright crimson. That only made him think about blood, and mad scientists' laboratories, but he kept those comments to himself.

"I guess Loveless decided he liked old furniture better than the new," he grunted.

"Or maybe he designed this thing in the other time," Lafe suggested. "Do you think he could have gotten it through the portal?"

Coley threw up his hands. "Right now, it seems like almost anything is possible," he grunted. "Hey, Lafe, are you feeling any better?"

". . . Yeah," Lafe realized in surprise. He pushed himself off the couch and began to slowly walk around the room. "Wow, it really does work fast."

"Let's just hope he was right about no side effects," Coley said. _And that the thing doesn't have some other main purpose besides clearing up motion sickness._

"I'm hoping," Lafe nodded. "Believe me, I'm hoping."

Jane came out from under the couch with a happy meow.

"Jane's glad you're feeling better," Coley remarked.

Lafe hesitated, then bent down and gave her a couple of pats. Jane half-closed her eyes in contentment.

Ray wandered over near the windows that stretched across most of one wall. "It looks like we're traveling around Los Angeles," he said. "We're coming back now to where the golf club is."

"Well, by now the security guards have probably told the police or the Air Force or somebody about what happened," Coley said. "They'll probably try to contact the ship soon."

"And then Loveless will say that he's waiting for James West," Ray frowned. "You know, this could be the event that will end up revealing to the whole world that time travel is real."

Lafe paused. "I'm not sure I like that."

"I _know_ I don't like it," Coley growled. "We'll either end up always in the spotlight or we'll be hated because we 'don't belong here.' Your D.A. friend's been good about keeping things quiet, but I figured it wouldn't always last."

Ray weakly half-smiled. "Mr. Burger probably mainly hopes that it's a horrible nightmare for him to wake up from," he said.

"I don't care about his reasons, as long as he's kept quiet," Coley said.

Ray sighed. "Well, maybe everything will work out. Maybe Loveless won't reveal that he means a James West who lived in the 1870s."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he brags about coming here from the 1870s himself," Coley remarked.

"I could see it," Ray admitted.

Coley pondered for a moment. "Well, we know West will come. We just don't know when he'll hear about it. So instead of sitting around waiting to be rescued, let's take that tour of the place and see if we can start figuring out how to bust out of here on our own."

"I'm with you, Coley," Lafe declared.

"And I am, too," Ray agreed. "But what will we do about Jane, if we're trying to make sure no one sees her?"

"Jane knows how to hide," Coley said.

Jane meowed in agreement, but then merowed. She padded across the room, stopped by the door, and looked back.

". . . She wants to come with us anyway," Ray realized.

"Jane, they don't know you're here," Coley growled. "These are vicious people. There's no telling what they might do to you."

Jane went up on two legs, pawing at the door.

Ray half-smiled. "She's more worried about us. And I wonder if in the end, she'd be safer coming with us than staying back here all alone."

"She probably wouldn't _stay_ back here all alone," Coley remarked. "If we tried to leave her, she'd probably find a way to open the door herself and come after us."

Jane reached for the door handle and grasped it in her paws, starting to turn it.

"It's hopeless," Ray proclaimed. "Alright, Jane. Come with us. I'd rather know where you are instead of having to wonder."

Jane half-closed her eyes in triumph.

xxxx

The security guards had indeed contacted the police, deeply shaken by what had happened with the arrival of Dr. Loveless and his airship. By the time Snakes arrived at Oak Bridge in the cab, squad cars and men in blue were everywhere.

"Wow," the cab driver exclaimed. "What in the heck happened here tonight?"

"Whatever it is, it's probably something big," Snakes muttered. He started to open the door. "Wait for me."

"Sure," the driver said. From his occupied tone, he was anxious for Snakes to find out and tell him what was going on, as well as liking the idea of the meter going up.

Snakes weaved his way around the cars and towards the front gate. He had no reason to fear the police these days, although he preferred to stay away from them when possible. That, however, would be _im_possible tonight.

"Excuse me, Sir." An officer at the gate held out a hand to stop Snakes. "Who are you and what's your business here?"

"I'm . . . uh . . . I know the owner and some of his staff," Snakes stammered. "I was just coming by to talk with them."

"At one o'clock in the morning?" the officer said with a raised eyebrow.

"Sure, why not?" Snakes shrugged. "They're up late a lot."

The officer nodded. "They're probably up tonight, too. The owner and two of his security guards have been abducted."

Snakes went stiff. "Huh?! How?!"

"You're not going to believe this," a second officer chimed in. "The guards are saying some guy brought an airship down and forced them to get in at gunpoint."

"There's some kind of airship up there right now," the first officer said, pointing into the sky. "We've been trying to establish contact with the pilot."

"Any luck?"

"He says he'll only answer to James West or the hostages will be harmed," the first officer frowned. "He hasn't said anything else since then."

Snakes gaped in disbelief. "James West?!"

"Do you know who he means?!" the second officer exclaimed.

". . . I might," Snakes answered carefully. "It's an awfully common name, you know."

"Oh, excuse me, Officers!"

Everyone turned at the sound of a frantic older woman's voice. Snakes recognized the cat lady Felicia Featherstone hurrying across the yard in a robe and slippers, her hair in curlers and her eyes wide and worried.

The first officer looked sympathetic at her plight but amused at her attire as he replied. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Featherstone. We haven't found out anything about your cat yet."

"She's up there with them!" Mrs. Featherstone moaned. "I know she is. She would never leave them in some horrible danger."

"No one saw a cat getting on the airship," the first officer pointed out.

"She wouldn't let them see her if she didn't want them to," Mrs. Featherstone insisted. "Oh, my poor baby. And the poor boys! They're all up there—Mr. Norman and Mr. Rodman and Lafe. . . . I don't know his last name." She stood near the gate and craned her neck upward, gazing at the airship high above them.

Snakes followed her gaze, frowning. Since apparently no one here had seen Jim West recently, he was probably still on the 1870s side of the portal. And maybe he would come soon if he was chasing Dr. Loveless or Tycho, as Snakes had originally thought. But on the other hand . . . what if Jim had no idea where those guys were right now? Maybe he wouldn't have any thought of them going through the portal, especially if they hadn't been anywhere near it. And in that case it could take days before he learned what was happening here. And by that time, what would have happened to Ray and the others?

"Did the guy give a time limit for West to contact him?" he queried.

"No," said the first officer. "But if we can't find this Mr. West soon, he'll probably deliver some kind of ultimatum. All we know for sure is that the hostages are going to be hurt if Mr. West doesn't show up."

Snakes gripped one of the bars of the gate. He didn't like this one bit. And he didn't like the thought of having to venture into possible danger again. He had settled into his current lifestyle and had no desire to ever return to the past—even though he still preferred to dress in the clothing of that era.

But Jim had to be told about what was happening. And right now, Snakes might be the only one who had an idea of how to reach him.

He drew a breath of resignation. "I think I can find Mr. West," he said, "but you have to let me take care of it on my own."

The officers turned to look at him, questions all over their faces. But before they could so much as get a word in, Mrs. Featherstone spoke first.

"Oh, can you?! Oh, how wonderful. Please do!" She clasped the iron bars, peering out at him. "We must do everything we can to save the boys and Jane."

She tilted her head to the side, some semblance of recognition flickering in her eyes. "I've seen you around here sometimes," she remembered. "Are you a friend of theirs?"

"Uh . . . well, I'm not an enemy," Snakes answered truthfully.

"I'm so glad. Yes, I remember you now. You're the one with the scar." Mrs. Featherstone looked to Snakes' left cheek and nodded to herself. "What's your name again?"

"Snakes," he replied with a tip of his hat, backing away before the officers could question him further. "Snakes Tolliver."

He dove back into the cab. "Get me to the airport," he said. "I have to get a helicopter."

"In the middle of the night?!" the cabbie gasped. "What's going on?!"

"I have to find someone," Snakes said. "See that thing in the sky?" He pointed out the airship.

"Sure do," the cabbie said. "What is it?"

"Some kind of aircraft," Snakes answered. "The owner and a couple of other people are being held hostage on it until someone named James West gets here."

The cabbie gave a low whistle. "Man, what is this world coming to?" he said as he started the engine and began to pull away from the parking space. "It's just full of nuts."

Snakes smirked dryly. He couldn't agree more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Snakes was troubled when the cab let him off at a private airfield that boasted of all-night airplane and helicopter service. He paid the driver and headed towards the hangar, grabbing at his hat as a cool night breeze swept over the area.

What were his reasons for doing this?

Was he concerned about Loveless's hostages?

He was, to some extent, he supposed.

It had been several months since he had nearly been killed trying to dismantle a doomsday device. In those months, he had struggled to put his life together and figure out how to walk on a more straight and narrow path than he had for the majority of his existence. It wasn't easy.

Sometimes he had gone to Oak Bridge to try to figure out how Coley Rodman and his friend Lafe were managing it. They weren't stupid, and they had quickly caught on to what Snakes was after, even though Snakes was too embarrassed and awkward to say anything outright. To his surprise, they had basically been kind and welcoming, and they and Ray Norman had told him all the tips and ideas they had for turning a criminal life into an honest one.

He didn't like to think of them being at the mercy of Dr. Loveless now.

He had never known what it was like to be cared about—or at least, he didn't remember. His parents had died when he had been very young, and no one else had ever given him much in the way of positive thoughts.

He didn't know why he had tried to help the Union soldier who had been running from traitorous and even murderous comrades that night.

He didn't know why he had climbed the doomsday device and blown a hole through the back-up counter to stop it.

Both times, he had been the only one available, the only one who knew what had to be done. And he had done it, both times at the risk of his own safety.

Of course, in the case of the doomsday device, he would have died if it had gone off. But he had believed he would die stopping it, too.

Perhaps it had mostly been a reflex, something instinctual, when he had realized that stopping the first counter wasn't good enough.

Or perhaps . . . perhaps he hadn't wanted to look the other way and do nothing while practically an entire world died.

That was a lot different, even, than what he had done as a member of the Posey gang. Lucrece Posey would have found such a thing barbaric. And apparently she still did, since she and the gang had joined forces with the others to try to stop the device from launching.

Maybe, although he still found it hard to believe, he still had some good in him.

That was, strangely enough, something Coley had told him recently.

"_Look, Tolliver. You've cleaned up your act a lot since December. I didn't think you had it in you. But I don't think anyone believed in you any less than you believed in yourself._

"_I used to say I didn't know why the cat likes me. Sometimes I still wonder. But I figure she must have seen something good in me before I saw it myself._

"_You, you're still like I was—you're having a hard time believing there's anything worth caring about in you. And a few months ago, I wouldn't have believed it, either._

"_But you've proved you're a decent guy since then, not just by blowing up that back-up counter at the risk of your own life, but by the way you've been trying to live your life after you made it out of that mess alive._

"_I don't think somebody who's all bad would ever do something decent. So you've always had good in you somewhere, Tolliver."_

Maybe Snakes just wanted to rescue him and the others because it was nice to have them around. It was strength and stability that he had never known before.

He frowned. No, he didn't think his reasons were selfish.

At least, not altogether.

He really didn't like to think of them being tortured. He knew what it was like only all too well, and it wasn't in his nature to torture anyone. He was always the one getting tortured instead.

Of course, if he wasn't careful, he supposed he could end up caught and tortured too. But he was certainly trying to avoid that at all costs. Jim West was the one Dr. Loveless wanted, so maybe if Snakes went and got him, that would be enough to help save the others.

Unless Dr. Loveless had no intention of letting them go regardless. And what if Jim was captured and couldn't get free?

Snakes frowned. He supposed he needed to keep himself available in case he needed to help more with the rescue.

Although he really couldn't deny that he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

He reached the hangar and headed inside. A man at a desk, wearing a baseball cap and reading a comic book, looked up. "Wow, what happened to you?" he said in surprise.

Realizing the guy was probably seeing the nasty twisted and raised skin on the back of his right hand—his memento from trying to save the world—Snakes lowered his arm and stuck his hand in his pocket. "I need to get up to Mt. San Antonio tonight," he said brusquely.

The guy raised an eyebrow. "Why are people always needing to go there in the middle of the night these days?" he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "It's been like this since last winter."

Snakes took out his wallet and held up a bill of large denomination. "You can get this as a bonus if you don't ask any more questions, Pal."

The man's eyes glittered. "Then let's get going," he said, snatching the bill from Snakes.

Snakes smirked. One thing he knew about humanity was that by and large, most people were greedy. Himself included.

"You _are_ a pilot, right?" he said, following the guy out to the helicopter pad. "Not just a mechanic?"

"Pilot's certification is right here," the guy answered grandly, pointing to the wall.

Snakes glanced at the framed document. "You're Edward Lawrence?"

"Yeah. What, you want my driver's license to prove it?"

Snakes shrugged. "You can't be too careful."

"Okay." The pilot took out his wallet and showed his driver's license, complete with picture. "Satisfied now?"

Snakes leaned in for a better look. "Yeah," he said finally.

"Well, good." They stepped outside. "When you get to the mountain, do you want me to wait around for you?"

Snakes paused, considering that. "You'd better not," he said then. "I don't know how long I'm going to be."

"How much can you do on a mountain in the middle of the night?" Edward exclaimed.

Snakes held up a finger. "No questions, remember?"

"Alright, alright." Edward shook his head. "But you people who like that mountain sure are a strange bunch."

_Just keep thinking that, _Snakes said silently. _Just as long as you don't find out __**how**__ strange we are._

_Justice, Nevada, circa 1874_

The trip to the mountain had been uneventful. Snakes had waited until the pilot departed before passing through the portal. Now he was back on the other side, entering the town of Justice after the trek through the desert.

It was strange to be back in the time from which he actually hailed. It was the same way he had felt upon once returning to the neighborhood in which he had grown up—it was no longer home.

Not that said neighborhood had ever felt much like home, but he had been familiar with it and knew all of its secrets. When he had returned, it had been as a successful gambler and criminal. And he had not been able to resist wreaking a bit of havoc on the people who had made his childhood a virtual Hell—without getting caught doing so, of course.

He had to smirk a bit at the memories. Ah, good times. He had been formidable, back in the day. Of course, that was why Posey and Pinto had taken notice of him to begin with. And now that he decided to try to live an honest life, he still hoped to bring some of that formidable nature with him. He was sick of being such a coward, although he imagined that he would always carry some level of a fear of death, now that he knew what being dead was like.

"Hey! Now, just what are you doing out late like this?"

He threw up his hands out of reflex. He recognized that idiot Sheriff's voice.

"I've got a right to be out," he said. "I'm not doing anything."

"You're breaking the curfew," Sheriff Cord answered. "Whoever you are. And say . . ." He squinted, holding up a lantern as he leaned in closer. "You're one of the Posey gang! You're not welcome here in town, even if the warrants on you have been dropped."

"I'm not part of the gang anymore," Snakes protested. "I'll be out of here in a few hours, after I send off a telegram and get a reply back."

"I'm the telegrapher here in Justice," Sheriff Cord said, "and I'm not going to send off any telegrams for the likes of you. You can just get out of here now and walk to the next town, see if they'll let you send it."

Snakes clenched his teeth. He was used to getting what he wanted by smooth talking, but he had the feeling that nothing he could do would work on this guy. Still, he had one more angle to try.

"It's to James West and Artemus Gordon," he announced. "And if you don't think they'll want to talk to me, how about you wire them and find out? It might turn out that they'll be pretty ticked off if you don't let me say what I'm intending to say."

"Ticked off?" Sheriff Cord regarded him blankly, but quickly abandoned his confusion over the anachronism. "Look here, I'm not going to waste their time by contacting them with anything you've got to say. But, on the other hand . . ." He paused. "Maybe they'd be interested to know that you're skulking around again. Alright, come along and I'll try to raise them on the telegraph. But don't try anything funny now, you hear?" He took out his gun, pointing it at Snakes.

"Hey, I _want_ the telegram sent," Snakes said. "Just as long as you don't go overstepping your bounds, I won't do anything out of sorts."

Sheriff Cord frowned. "If you're insinuating that I'd ever not do my proper duty as an officer of the law because of my own personal feelings, you're just wrong!" He gestured with the gun. "You just go on ahead of me and know that I've got this here weapon in your back."

Snakes kept his hands elevated. "That'd be kind of hard not to know," he said.

"There's no need to be facetious," Sheriff Cord said as he prodded Snakes ahead with the threat of the gun.

Once they reached the telegraph office, Snakes stood by, waiting impatiently while the Sheriff tapped out a brief message. For several minutes there was no response. But then the machine whirred to life, clicking out a reply.

"_Mr. West and Mr. Gordon at hotel in town. Will try to reach them,"_ Sheriff Cord translated.

Snakes cursed to himself. He had hoped they would be on their train tonight. Of course, there had to be another complication. And that meant he would be stuck with this nut a while longer. That was not a prospect he enjoyed.

But there was nothing to be done about it, of course. He sighed, leaning on the counter as he waited.

Fifteen minutes later the desired communication came. Again Sheriff Cord translated, but this time he was bowled over by the contents.

"_Let Snakes deliver his message. It must be urgent. Signed, Artemus Gordon."_ Sheriff Cord looked up with a jerk. "Hey now, what's this?!"

Snakes could not resist smirking at him while reaching into his suit coat pocket for a cigar. "It's proof that you'd better do what the man says, Sheriff," he said. "You don't want to go against the United States Secret Service."

Sheriff Cord scowled. "I _did_ think that those two were losing their touch when they came back requesting immunity for that varmint Coley Rodman," he muttered. Louder he said, "Alright, you. Give me your message."

Snakes lit his cigar with a flick of a modern lighter, not caring for the moment if Sheriff Cord saw and was bewildered by the device. "Tell them I said there's trouble back home. Old enemies dropped in and took some new friends."

Sheriff Cord frowned. "That's awfully mysterious-like."

"It's good enough." Snakes certainly did not want to deliver the details in Cord's presence.

The older man shrugged. "We'll see about that." He tapped out the new message.

This time the answer came back much more rapidly. _"We're coming right out and should be there in a few hours. Please let Snakes stay there, free, until we pull in."_ Sheriff Cord went rigid.

Snakes smirked more, holding the cigar between his fingers. "You heard it, Sheriff," he said. "And there's nothing you can do about it unless you disobey Secret Service men."

Sheriff Cord threw up his hands. "Dangnabit, they really are losing their touch!" he wailed to the ceiling.

_Above the skies of Los Angeles, circa 2013_

Butch raised an eyebrow when Coley opened the door of the lounge. "Are you gonna take the doctor up on his offer?" he greeted. "I hope you're not thinking of doing something stupid instead." A hand strayed to the blade at his side.

"We just want to see the rest of this place," Coley grunted.

"Good," Butch sneered. "Then I'll take you, just like what was promised." He stepped aside to allow them passage to the hall.

Coley stepped out first, followed closely by Lafe and Ray. Jane scampered at their heels, while they tried to conceal that she was there.

"How did you end up working with Loveless anyway?" Ray wondered as Butch proceeded to lead them down the corridor. "I didn't think pirates would want to take a break in their plundering to assist a mad scientist."

Butch shrugged. "We're air pirates. Dr. Loveless said we can use this rig when he's done with it and loot all the planes we want."

"Oh lovely," Ray muttered.

"There must be a lot of you," said Lafe.

"We're a good-sized crew," Butch said vaguely.

"And in the meantime, you have to help him with whatever he wants," Coley said. "What makes you think he'll even let airplanes keep running when he's done?"

"What reason would he have to stop them?" Butch countered.

"You don't know this guy," Coley growled. Not that they did, but at least they had Jim's stories to give them _some_ idea of what to expect. "He's tried to knock off the whole world before."

Butch stopped walking and looked back. "You're making it up. He's just a crazy little man."

"A crazy, _brilliant_ little man, I'm afraid," said Ray. "And one who is extremely deranged and hateful towards mankind."

"I know he sounds off his rocker, but I just figured it was mostly the ravings of a nutcase, nothing he'd ever really go through with." Butch glowered at them. "You're just trying to get me on your side."

"Hey, we know about crazy docs," Lafe exclaimed.

"And this one's the mother lode," Ray added.

"I'll watch my step." Butch gestured to the closed doors on either side of them. "Feel free to look inside any of the rooms. Dr. Loveless said you could. All except the girl's room. She keeps that locked."

"What's her deal, anyway?" Coley demanded. "Why does _she_ travel with him? She must be almost as nuts as he is."

"Probably," Butch said. "And she loves him, too. But we don't care about any of that mush. They can do what they want."

The sound of singing drifted to them from somewhere else in the airship. Coley exchanged looks with Ray and Lafe in utter disbelief. Jim hadn't been kidding about those musical interludes.

Between them they started opening some of the doors where there wasn't music. In addition to several rooms that were apparently cabins with the ability to house anywhere from one to three people, there was a library, a study, a very large kitchen, and an observation lounge.

"No bathrooms?" Lafe wondered.

"They're in the cabins," Butch said.

Ray sighed. "I have to admit, Dr. Loveless designed a very impressive zeppelin."

Coley nodded. "It'd probably be a pretty decent ride, if we could control what happened to us." He looked to Butch. "You don't think we're really stupid enough to think he'll let us go when West comes."

"Maybe he will," Butch said. "I don't know. I don't care. You're nothing to me."

"Of course not," Ray objected. "You're a pirate."

Butch sneered.

"Who's piloting this thing anyway?" Coley frowned.

"A couple of the others," Butch said. "And you're going to need to go back to the main lounge and sit down soon. We have to stop and pick up some guy who's working with Dr. Loveless."

Coley froze. "Who's working with him?" he demanded.

"I don't know," Butch said boredly. "Some guy named Tycho."

Now the looks Coley shared with his friends were mainly those of confusion. Who in the world was Tycho? That was not a name they recognized.

"Where's the cockpit?" Ray wondered. If they hoped to seize control of this ship themselves at some point, knowing the cockpit's location was a necessity. None of them knew how to pilot such a thing, however, so they would have to force someone else to do it—at gunpoint, if necessary.

"It's straight down that way," Butch said, gesturing ahead.

"Hey, why is it that our weapons weren't taken away from us when we got on this thing?" Coley asked now. An omission such as that seemed either sloppy or foolish, and he couldn't imagine Dr. Loveless being either.

A shrug. "The doctor said it wouldn't be polite. And he was sure we could stop any possible mutiny before it happened. Every one of us is an excellent shot." Butch sneered. "I hope you're not planning to try to find that out."

"I hope you don't think we're idiotic enough to admit it if we are," Coley said flatly.

Butch threw back his head and laughed. "Good point."

It wasn't long before they changed course and Butch started to herd them back to the main lounge. Lafe eyed the cabins as they passed.

"So, why are we stuck in that one room, anyway?" he wondered. "Don't we get some cabins?"

"I don't know. Maybe later. The doctor just said he wanted you where you were so you could see the city better." Reaching the door, Butch stood beside it and gestured for them to enter.

"He's probably planning to blow it up," Coley muttered.

Ray was worried. "That's true," he said. "Mr. West said that Dr. Loveless was always trying to conquer California. Maybe he's up to something like that again."

"Who knows. Get in there." Butch again pointed to the room. Displeased, Coley and the others trouped inside. "You'll hear an alarm go off when it's time to get ready to go down." With that he shut the door.

Ray's shoulders slumped. "Well, he didn't say anything about Jane, even if he noticed her," he sighed.

Jane sat down next to his feet and meowed.

"Maybe they knew all along and they're trying to make us think they don't know," Lafe frowned.

Coley glanced to him. "Yeah, that's always possible." He crossed to the window. "It looks like it's going to be light soon. And there's still no telling where West is."

"Dr. Loveless seemed certain that Mr. West would be on his way, almost as though he thought Mr. West already knew about this," Ray remarked.

"Maybe Loveless dropped him a line," Coley said.

"And we still couldn't find out how many pirates there are," Lafe said. He placed his hand on a nearby end table. "We got shooed away from the cockpit area pretty fast, too."

"Too fast for it to be a coincidence," Coley growled. "Butch acts like he doesn't care much about what's going on, but he knows enough to be suspicious of us going into the cockpit."

"I wonder if there's a security room," Ray said. "And it just occurs to me now that maybe this room is bugged somehow."

"So they might be seeing and hearing us both," Coley finished. "That wouldn't surprise me much." He turned away from the window and started to walk around the perimeter of the room. "Let's see what we can find, if anything."

A search of the room didn't turn up any cameras or listening devices, but the group wasn't satisfied. The objects could be disguised as something entirely innocent.

Lafe collapsed on the couch in frustration. "It's hopeless," he moaned.

"Right now it sure seems like it," Coley conceded.

"And what about this Tycho person?" Ray worried. "We don't know who he is or anything about him!"

A piercing alarm went off in all corners of the ship.

Coley scowled, sitting down next to Lafe. "It looks like we're about to find out."

Jane hopped on his lap and he held her close, feeling the airship noticeably starting to descend. Ray sat next to them, wondering and worrying exactly who they were going to pick up.

_Somewhere in Nevada, circa 1874_

Both Arte and Jim had been tense ever since receiving Snakes' message. They had immediately left town for the _Wanderer_ and had been flying down the railroad tracks for the last several hours. As morning began to dawn, they were nearing Justice at last.

"Snakes would never risk coming back over here unless something drastic was wrong," Arte fretted as he paced the train car.

Jim was sitting and watching him, but was by no means any less concerned. "And to say that old enemies have come and taken new friends . . . Arte, it sounds like it's what I was afraid of. Dr. Loveless and maybe even Tycho have found the portal and are using our friends over there to further their latest scheme."

Arte exhaled. "At least they didn't find Snakes too, or he couldn't have passed on the news to us." He looked out the window, trying to relax. "I wonder what kind of a time he's been giving Sheriff Cord."

"I wonder what kind of a time Sheriff Cord is giving _him,_" Jim remarked. "There couldn't be much of a worse place for an ex-criminal to come out in this time period than Justice, Nevada."

Arte nodded with a sigh. "Coley always tries to avoid Justice when he comes through," he commented. "Even though it means he has to walk farther."

"At least the railroad is closer now." Even as Jim spoke, the train was slowing to a halt. He stood, heading for the baggage car. "Come on. Let's get our horses and go."

The last stretch of the journey always had to be on horseback, but it was only for a few miles thanks to the new rail line. As the animals trotted into Justice, Jim and Arte stayed alert, wondering exactly where they should go to find Snakes.

"I'll try the hotel," Jim suggested. "Arte, why don't you try the saloon?"

"And hopefully we won't have to try the jail," Arte sighed.

"Sheriff Cord doesn't have any reason to hold Snakes, whether he likes that fact or not," Jim replied. "As long as Snakes doesn't make some new trouble, he should be free, just like you asked."

"Snakes could always inadvertently break one of the many rules in town," Arte pointed out.

"Just don't think about that yet," Jim said as he headed for the Justice Is Blind Hotel.

Sighing, Arte turned his attention to the saloon. It was early, but he could already hear music coming from inside. The place was hopping.

"You'd think they'd all be exhausted after last night," he half-said to his horse through a yawn.

It was strange, really, that in such a strait-laced town as Justice, the saloon was still big business. One could use the argument that at least some of the citizens went in there to escape, only the long arm of the law usually extended in there, too. The saloon had its share of bizarre regulations.

But Arte had to stop and stare when he stepped through the swinging doors and inside. Snakes was there, alright—laughing, sweeping the poker winnings to his side of the table, and holding a cigar between his teeth. Off to the side, a deputy was slowly sipping a drink and watching Snakes closely.

Shaking his head, Arte approached the table. "Snakes, Snakes, you're still using those things? I thought you would have given them up after what we learned . . . back home."

Snakes looked up with a start. "I'm cutting down," he said, putting out the cigar. "It takes a while to break a habit. But say, Gordon, what took you so long?" He stood and removed his hat to collect the winnings. "And where's West?! He's here, isn't he?"

"Right here," came Jim's voice from the doorway.

Snakes relaxed. "Oh good." He looked to the other men at the table, who were watching the unfolding situation with goggle-eyed confusion and interest. "Sorry, but that's all for today. Better luck next time." Snakes mock-saluted and headed towards the counter.

Jim and Arte fell into step with him. "What good is all of this paper money going to do you anyway?" Jim wondered. "It's useless back home."

Snakes shrugged. "I'll have them exchange everything for coins," he smirked. "Those aren't useless back home."

"Snakes, you _are_ a sly one," Arte said.

And Snakes arranged for exactly that. With a tip of the hat to the spying deputy, he headed out of the saloon with a sack of coins and the two Secret Service agents.

"Alright," Jim said once they were alone on the street, "what's going on, Snakes?"

Snakes sobered. "Dr. Loveless showed up in some airship and abducted Norman, Rodman, and Lafe," he said. "And he says he won't let them go until you come."

"Oh no," Arte groaned.

Jim's eyes narrowed. "We don't have any time to lose," he said. "Snakes, you'll have to ride with one of us. We didn't bring another horse in the interest of saving time."

"That's fine with me," Snakes said. "I don't know how much time Loveless is giving them."

Arte looked to Jim, sickened. "Jim, do you think Dr. Loveless would really start killing them if you don't show up by a certain time?"

"I think he'll start getting impatient and wondering where I am," Jim replied. "And an impatient Dr. Loveless is an unpredictable Dr. Loveless. He might start injuring them after a while. Then, if I'm still not there . . . yes, he might start killing. You know how he feels the end justifies the means."

"I swear, people like that are the most dangerous," Arte declared, climbing onto his horse. Snakes climbed up with him, awkward, but willing to go along with the set-up.

Jim got on his own horse and took off, flying towards the other end of town and the portal.

_I won't let it get to that point,_ he vowed. _Whatever it takes, we're going to save them._

_This time, Dr. Loveless, you've gone too far._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

It was only when they were in the desert and almost to the portal that Snakes remembered the other strange thing that had happened to him.

"Hey," he said then, "some really weird guy came into the casino last night."

"What about it?" Jim grunted.

"And how was he weird?" Arte added.

"Well, he was downright arrogant," Snakes said. "He acted like he thought he was better than everyone else. But I'm telling you about him because he wanted to meet with Dr. Loveless."

"Oh no," Arte frowned.

"Did he say his name was Tycho?" Jim demanded.

"Yeah," Snakes said in surprise.

"I thought so," Jim said darkly.

"Who is he?" Snakes wondered. "I wasn't sure what to make of him."

"Let's just say he's a very dangerous, devious man," said Jim. "And he and Dr. Loveless working together could be one of the most large-scale disasters the world will see for some time."

Snakes winced. "That makes it clear enough."

They reached the portal then and passed through. On Mt. San Antonio, the morning light was shining across Los Angeles, highlighting all of the buildings near and far. And in the sky, a large airship was rising.

"There it is," Snakes exclaimed. "It must've been on the ground just now. I wonder why."

Jim watched the zeppelin with narrowed eyes. "Did Loveless say how I'm supposed to contact him?"

"No," Snakes replied. "Or at least, no one told me if he did. I'd say I should order a helicopter and we'll go to the golf club in that. It'll take too long to get down on your horses. Maybe the police will have a radio at the club to call the airship. I . . . uh . . . kind of told them I'd bring you."

"Fine," Jim said. He got down, guiding his horse back to the portal. He knew from past experience that it would go back to the train to wait.

Arte followed suit while Snakes called for a helicopter. But as Arte sent his horse through the portal as well, he was suddenly struck by the same concern that had hit Coley and Ray earlier. "Say, Jim," he said, "are we going to be able to hide the fact that we're from another time?"

"I don't know," Jim answered. "We'll try, Arte, but if it comes out, there won't be much we can do about it."

"It might wreck all of our chances to live here peacefully," Snakes said in growing realization and concern. "Especially when a lot of people have that idea that living out of your time turns everything upside-down and inside-out."

"I think there's been less of that lately, though," Arte mused, "since that time-travel show is so popular these days and seems to express a different concept."

Snakes sighed. "Well, maybe. But ten to one they won't leave us alone. If they don't want us gone, they'll turn us into celebrities."

"Coley wouldn't like that," Arte mused.

"Maybe not, but we'll deal with that if it happens," Jim said. "Right now we have to concentrate on making sure Coley and the others stay alive to not like it."

"Amen," Arte said quietly.

xxxx

Coley and the others had been wondering and worrying over the identity of Dr. Loveless's new cohort all the time the airship was on the ground. It was only for a few minutes, but it seemed much longer.

It was as soon as the airship was airborne again that the door of the main lounge opened. Dr. Loveless was standing there, along with a man none of the prisoners recognized.

Lafe stared, his eyes wide. _This_ was Tycho? He supposed it had to be, but the newcomer was not what Lafe had expected in the least. From Coley's and Ray's expressions, they were likewise stunned.

Tycho looked at them all, laying one hand atop the other. "Well," he sniffed, "so these are your hostages."

"Yes," Dr. Loveless said with pride. "Mr. West will be coming any time now, concerned about setting them free."

Tycho's lip curled. "I highly doubt that."

"He'd never leave us in this mess," Coley said coolly.

"No, I don't think he would," Tycho agreed. "But there is no way he will know of your dire predicament."

Dr. Loveless turned to him with a start. "What do you mean?!" he burst out. "I sent the message to Mr. West myself!"

"Perhaps you tried, but there is no guarantee that he received it." Tycho responded as though he was the only adult, speaking to a child.

Suddenly the little man's eyes flashed. "You . . . you intercepted it, didn't you?!" he cried. "You made sure that Mr. West _wouldn't_ receive my message!"

"Naturally. You have the outlandishly foolish notion that you should share your plans with your enemy," Tycho said. "Why should he be aware that we have moved our operations into the year 2013?"

"Because . . . because . . . !" Dr. Loveless clenched his fists. "Because I want Mr. West here to see my great triumph!"

"And that is why you continually fall prey to Mr. West and Mr. Gordon," Tycho declared. "You are certainly free enough to engage in such nonsense on your own time, but when you are working with me, I will not tolerate it. Do you understand?"

"But . . ." Dr. Loveless was clearly both appalled and fuming. "And just what do you think should be done with our hostages?!" he spat at last.

"They should be killed, of course," Tycho said flippantly. "But before that, they should most certainly be relieved of their weapons. Such an essential matter should have been taken care of when you first forced them onboard."

The captives exchanged concerned and curious looks. "Well, what do you know," Coley grunted. "They don't get along. At all."

"That might come in handy at some point," Lafe decided.

"If we're still alive to do anything about it," Ray worried.

Jane pressed herself against the backs of their legs, her eyes wide, her fur and tail going to twice their size.

"This part of the plan is my idea, Tycho!" Dr. Loveless snarled now. "I don't need any interference or commentary from you. Just focus on your own ideas!"

"I don't want _my_ ideas disrupted by _your_ ideas," Tycho retorted. "Butch, relieve them of their weapons."

Butch stepped inside the room, starting to pull out his sword.

Furious, Dr. Loveless hurried inside as well and rushed in front of Butch. "Not now!" he declared. "You still take orders from me! Butch, go back to your post."

Tycho regarded the situation in annoyance. "It's further foolishness to air our disagreements in front of the hostages," he said. "We will discuss this in private, Dr. Loveless." He turned, stalking out of the room.

Dr. Loveless glared at him and then turned to the others. "I truly apologize for this, gentlemen," he said. "You will be allowed to keep your weapons. And your lives."

"Yeah, but if West doesn't even know to come, what's going to happen to us?" Coley frowned. "It looks like you've got some serious problems with your friend."

"Tycho is _not_ my friend!" Dr. Loveless fumed. "And Mr. West _will_ know to come. I can assure you of that. I will send a messenger after him this instant." With that he walked purposely out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Ray's shoulders slumped. "We're safe for the moment, but there's no telling how long that moment will be," he said.

"Or how long it will take someone to find West," Lafe added.

"It's like I said all along," Coley determined. "We have to get out of this ourselves. And we can't wait; this Tycho isn't going to hold off long. The next time the door opens, get ready to ambush whoever's there. We'll have to run into the hall, find the cockpit, and force this thing down."

Jane meowed in agreement.

"That doc is going to be sorry he let us keep our guns," Lafe remarked.

"It _is_ a stupid thing to do," Coley said. "Not that I'm not grateful he did it."

Lafe shuddered. "I'm not sure which one of them is worse. I mean, the doc seems better, but maybe if it came right down to it, he wouldn't really be any different than the new guy."

"I don't want to test him, but we're probably going to have to," Coley growled. He took out his gun and opened the chamber, making certain it was completely loaded. He snapped it shut again, his eyes dark.

"We might end up dying trying to get free," Lafe noted, grimly lowering his voice.

"We might," Ray agreed. "Or maybe just one of us would, leaving the others to go on without him." He clenched a fist. He did not want to think about such things.

"Ray . . ." Coley looked to him. "Are you really saying that you think we should wait longer?"

Ray sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know," he said helplessly. "Part of me feels like panicking and leaping out the window or doing something else stupid that probably wouldn't help.

"Part of me feels like anything we do will just be squelched and that we need to give Mr. West a little more time. But then I think that you're right, Coley, and you know better what should be done than I ever could."

Coley replaced his gun in its holster and looked to Ray. "I don't know the best thing to do," he said. "It's just like you said earlier, Ray—all I can do is try. And I'm still worried about doing the right thing too. Maybe taking things into our own hands isn't the right thing. But I can tell Tycho isn't going to have a lot of patience with the doc, and that could mean curtains for us at any time. On the other hand, one or more of us could be killed trying to break out. So maybe we don't have any better chances one way than the other."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Ray admitted.

Coley sighed. "I guess we could give it another hour or two. I'm just not sure Loveless can hold Tycho off that long."

"I'm not sure, either." Ray shuddered. "Let's try to get out. We'll go with your plan, Coley."

Lafe nodded in agreement. "I don't want to give that doc any chance to decide to experiment on me," he declared.

"Then we won't," Coley said firmly. "We'll get out of here or . . ." He drew a deep breath. "We'll die trying."

Ray laid his hand on Coley's shoulder. "I'm with you."

"Me too," Lafe agreed.

Jane meowed.

Coley looked down at her. "You can't die," he objected. "You have to get back to Mrs. Featherstone."

Jane bumped her head against his leg.

"I think Jane is saying that we can't die, either," Ray said.

Lafe sighed. "It's not first on my list of things to do today."

"And we're going to do everything we can to make sure it doesn't happen at all," Coley vowed.

Jane purred in approval.

xxxx

Jim was still tense as he and the others rode in to Oak Bridge on the helicopter. The police at the gate looked up with a collective start, stunned and amazed at their entrance.

"I'm James West," Jim announced as he climbed out of the helicopter. "What's going on here?"

"We're not sure, Mr. West," said one officer. "The airship came down a while ago and then went back up. We haven't been able to contact the pilot since then."

"Try again and tell them I'm here," Jim insisted. "And I'll get on the radio myself to let them know it's true."

The officer nodded and looked to the man working the radio. He nodded and leaned into the microphone. "This is Sergeant MacDonald, calling unidentified airship. We have James West. Repeat, we have James West."

Jim placed his hands on the table and also leaned in. "Do you hear that, Dr. Loveless? I'm here. Now, let my friends go."

For a moment there was silence. But then came a crackling of static over the device, and amidst it, a familiar chuckle.

"Why, Mr. West! How good to hear your voice again. It seems that Tycho wasn't as successful as he thought he was in destroying my message to you!"

"Oh, he was successful, alright," said Jim. "I found out what was going on thanks to another friend, one you missed."

"I missed one?" Dr. Loveless clucked his tongue. "A pity. But oh well, I've made do. I'll lower a rope ladder for you, Mr. West. Come right up. However, I'm afraid you must leave Mr. Gordon and your other friend behind. If anyone tries to follow you up, I will have my men take aim."

"I'll come up alone," Jim said coldly. "But what about your hostages?"

"They'll be set free," Dr. Loveless tried to assure him. "After we have our little chat."

"I'll hold you to that, Doctor." Jim started to straighten.

"Do I detect a little anger, Mr. West?"

"You do. If you want to get me up there, you don't have to kidnap my friends to do it!"

Arte stood by, listening to the conversation in concern. "What are you going to do, Jim?" he asked quietly.

"I'm going up there," Jim said, as though it was the only choice that could be made. "You and Snakes stay here. If something goes wrong, I'll need your help."

Snakes swallowed hard. "What could we do?"

"I don't know." Jim turned to look toward the airship. It was lowering, just enough so that the rope ladder was hovering closely above the ground. Taking a running leap, Jim grabbed the end of it and began to climb.

Snakes shook his head. "I don't know how he does things like that."

"You can do a lot of incredible things when you have to," Arte answered as he watched, not speaking solely about Jim.

xxxx

The rope ladder led into the cockpit. Jim got to his feet as he reached the top, looking with narrowed eyes to the pirates at the controls and Dr. Loveless standing by, delighted to see that Jim had made it.

"Alright, Doctor, I'm here," Jim said. "Where do you have my friends?"

"They're safe and sound in the main lounge, Mr. West," Dr. Loveless replied. "You'll see them soon. First I wanted to show you my magnificent achievement with this airship."

"It's impressive," Jim said, "but I've never seen an airship before, so I'm sure I would be impressed by any one of them."

Dr. Loveless gave a mock look of hurt. "Oh, but mine is the most special, Mr. West," he said. "I designed it long before that German count even had an inkling of an idea about them."

"And you built it so fast?" Jim returned.

Dr. Loveless smiled. "I've been escaping through that wonderful portal for several months on end," he said proudly. "I hired a company to build it to my exact specifications and recruited a crew."

Jim nodded. "I should have known. I assumed you'd get around to the portal sooner or later, Dr. Loveless, but I didn't realize that you'd been plotting this scheme for several months." He glowered. "When did you decide that my friends should be a part of this?"

"As soon as I realized they _were_ your friends, Mr. West," Dr. Loveless said.

"You didn't have to go to all this trouble." The anger in Jim's voice was obvious, even though he didn't raise his tone. "I would have come just knowing you were here."

"I know, but you know how I love an audience," Dr. Loveless smiled.

It was as Jim had feared. "You don't plan to let any of us go, do you?" he realized.

"Why, Mr. West! Of course I do. After I've conquered Los Angeles." Dr. Loveless crossed to the window above the controls and gestured to the city visible beyond. "If I can't have California in the time that rightfully belongs to me, I will take it in another time!"

"I thought as much." Jim's thoughts were racing. He was relieved that he had not allowed Arte and Snakes to come up with him. Their help might very well be needed on the ground or in the air away from the airship.

Meanwhile, he had to get out of this. But with other hostages, he wasn't sure he dared to make a move until he knew that they were safe.

"Just how are you planning to conquer Los Angeles?" he queried now.

Dr. Loveless grinned. "That's my little secret for now. When we draw closer to the time, I'll tell you everything."

"You mean when I can't do anything to stop it," Jim supplied.

"You can't anyway," Dr. Loveless said with glee. "This time, Mr. West, I am truly going to win."

"And what about your new friend Tycho?" Jim asked. "What does he want out of this? The last I heard, he wanted to rule the world too. It won't be big enough for the both of you."

Now Dr. Loveless scowled. "I'll take care of Tycho later," he said.

"With all due respect, Doctor, he's probably planning to 'take care' of you," Jim answered. "In fact, knowing him, he's probably bugged the entire airship and is listening to everything we're saying right now."

"He wouldn't have had time to do such a thing," Dr. Loveless retorted. "I've had two of my men watching him constantly ever since he came aboard."

"Maybe they're _his_ men," Jim said. "Did you think of that?"

"Of course I thought of that, Mr. West," Dr. Loveless frowned. "But he simply wouldn't have had any chance to speak with them without me knowing about it."

"You might be surprised, Doctor." Jim looked to the open doorway and the corridor beyond. "Right now, I want to see my friends."

"Of course." Dr. Loveless sighed, heading for the hall. "Come with me."

Jim followed, glancing at the décor and memorizing the interior of the airship as they walked. He would need that information at some point.

xxxx

No one had come back to the lounge in some time. The prisoners waited, tense, jumping a mile at each small noise. Coley kept his hand near his gun, although he did not draw it. Ray gravitated to a vase, having left his own, illegally owned gun back at the golf club.

Lafe wandered over near the window, restless and worried about their situation. He had certainly had some strange adventures ever since joining Coley in the present day. And he supposed that this was minor compared to the search for a doomsday device on a cruise ship. Still, he did not like being held hostage. Also, maybe Loveless and Tycho were every bit as dangerous to the world as that device. They probably were.

The sight of the lowering rope ladder, and the man who jumped to grab it, startled him to attention. A bit of hope rose in his heart.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "It's West! He's coming up the ladder!"

Coley and Ray rushed over to see, Jane scampering at their heels.

"Well, I still don't think Loveless will let us go, but I'm glad to see Mr. West all the same," Ray declared.

Coley nodded. "Maybe he'll help us get out of here," he suggested. "We'll wait to do anything and see if they'll let him see us."

Several minutes later, Dr. Loveless was opening the door to the lounge. "You see, Mr. West?" he said. "Here they all are, unharmed, just as I promised."

Jim looked to them, still unsettled. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, for now," said Coley. "What's going on?"

Jim stepped into the room. "He's not going to let us go until he's conquered Los Angeles."

"I _knew_ there was a catch!" Coley snarled.

"Now, now, Mr. Rodman." Dr. Loveless frowned as he looked to the former outlaw. "I promised to release you and I shall. You'll just have to wait a little while longer." He reached for the doorknob. "Spend some time getting re-acquainted with your dear Mr. West. I'll be back when I wish to speak with him again. And don't forget that Butch is right here." He gestured to the pirate as he closed the door after him.

Coley glowered at the shutting door. "We were just making plans to bust out on our own when Lafe saw you were coming," he said to Jim, who nodded.

"That sounds like you," he said. "You're not the type to let yourself rely on anyone else." The hidden gun from his sleeve appeared in his hand. "I'll lead you in those plans now. I'll get you safely off this ship so Loveless can't use you to bargain with."

Ray frowned. "But you'll stay here, won't you?"

"I have to. I can't let Loveless try to take over Los Angeles. Anyway, we all know he wouldn't stop there." Jim crossed to the window, looked out, and turned back. "Do you know how many pirates are onboard?"

"We were trying to find that out," Lafe said, "but that Butch guy wouldn't tell us. He just said there were a lot."

"That figures." Jim lowered his voice. "Alright. I'll open the door and knock Butch out. When I do, all of you run for it. I saw an emergency exit near the cockpit. I'll see that you get there."

"We can't just leave you here to deal with Loveless all alone," Ray exclaimed.

"Arte and I have beat him several times without anyone else," Jim said.

"We're not cowards," Coley objected. "We're not going to just run off like that."

"You're going to," Jim insisted, an edge creeping into his voice. "Loveless brought you here for one purpose and one purpose only—to get at me. He knew I'd have a much harder time doing anything against him if he was holding friends of mine hostage."

"We'll go along with the part of your plan to get us free," Coley said. "But then we won't be hostages anymore and we'll be able to help you and Gordon beat Loveless. And that other guy, too."

Jane meowed, curling around Coley's legs. Jim looked down with a start. "How did she get here?!"

"She followed us onboard," Ray said sheepishly. "We didn't notice."

"We can't let her stay," Coley frowned, relenting. "At least one of us will have to leave the airship to get her off."

Jane yowled in protest.

"We'll sort it out when we get to the emergency exit," Jim determined. "Is everyone ready?"

When everyone answered in the affirmative—Jane included—Jim hauled open the door without warning.

Butch looked up. "You're done visiting already?" he greeted, going for his sword.

"No." Jim's response was flat and matter-of-fact as he punched the pirate in the face. Butch staggered back and fell, stunned.

Now Jim ran out the door, gun in hand. "Come on!" he barked.

The others rushed after him, holding weapons as they tore down the hall. Jane prepared to bear her claws.

For a moment everything was clear. But that was too strange and too suspicious, and soon other pirates thundered out from other hallways, swinging their swords and sometimes throwing them.

"These pirates _are_ from the present, aren't they?" Ray exclaimed as he watched Jim shoot the sword out of one shocked pirate's hand.

"That's the impression I got," Jim said over his shoulder.

"It seems like modern pirates wouldn't use something so archaic as swords," Ray remarked.

"Sometimes we don't," came one pirate's voice. In the next moment, a gunshot rang out and knocked Jim's gun from his hand.

They were just coming to the end of the corridor, a place where several different paths converged. And to their chagrin, more pirates were emerging from almost every one of them. Back on the original trail, Dr. Loveless and Tycho were approaching with Butch.

"You see, Loveless?" Tycho declared in anger. "This is what happens when you leave liabilities such as hostages alive."

"There wasn't any reason to kill them!" Dr. Loveless retorted. "I knew Butch's crew would prevent an escape, just as they've done!"

Tycho ignored him. "You're quite surrounded, Mr. West, Mr. Rodman," he said smoothly, having decided that they were the main minds behind the attempt at flight. "If you don't want your friends to be killed in front of you, you will drop your weapons right now."

The pirate with the gun held it to the back of Ray's head. Another brought his sword to Lafe's back.

Coley's eyes flamed. "Fine," he growled, throwing his gun to the floor. He knew when he was beat.

Jim likewise removed the gun from his holster and dropped it.

Jane arched her back and hissed at the lot of their enemies.

Tycho looked to her in surprise. "What's this? A cat?" He tensed. "Get it away!"

"You don't like cats, Tycho?" Jim said dryly. "I suppose you wouldn't, if you still keep a raven."

Dr. Loveless glared at Tycho. "She's a perfectly wonderful animal, aside from this misguided affection she has for these people. I won't allow you to harm her!"

"I won't, either," Coley snapped.

"You don't have any choice in the matter, Mr. Rodman," Tycho said. "You'll have to choose between this animal and your human friend." He nodded to the pirate who was still holding his sword to Lafe's back.

Coley swore at him. "I'm not going to choose."

Lafe suddenly kicked back, striking the pirate in the shin. As he yelped in pain and fell back, pandemonium broke out. Coley and Jim took up their guns, firing on the pirates. Ray used a karate chop on one and found the pressure point of another. Jane clawed several more.

It was then, as Dr. Loveless and Tycho were yelling for order to prevail, that Butch struck out and hit Coley hard on the back of his head with a blackjack. Pain filled Coley's eyes for one brief moment before they closed and he collapsed to the floor, the gun slipping from his fingers.

His fall stopped the fighting.

"Coley!" Lafe cried. He dropped to his knees, grabbing the slackened shoulder. "Coley, come on, say something!"

There was no reply. Sickened and angry, Lafe gently turned the limp form onto his back. Coley fell into place, obviously alive, but deeply unconscious.

"You foolishly inadequate prisoners shouldn't have tried to break your bonds," Tycho said coldly. "And there are no second chances here."

Loveless looked to him with a start. "This is _my_ plan, Tycho!" he snarled. "You're just along for the ride. I give the orders! When I want them killed, I'll say so!"

"It's supposed to be _our_ plan, my dear Loveless," Tycho said haughtily, "but I am deeply starting to regret this attempt at partnership. Our goals are not truly the same, even if they seem so on the surface."

Lafe glowered at them both, and at Butch, as he lifted Coley's upper body into his arms and cradled his friend close to him. "Coley's a bigger man than any of you," he muttered darkly. "Maybe he doesn't know all the scientific stuff you know, but he knows that everything about this mess is all wrong. He doesn't think that killing everybody is a good solution to this world's problems. And he doesn't think he's better than everyone else."

Ray, Jim, and Jane finally made their way through the crowds of pirates, also looking sick to see Coley lying so still. Ray's heart nearly stopped. "Lafe!" he cried. "Coley, is he . . . ?"

"He's alive," Lafe said. "He's just not waking up." He swallowed hard. Coley had woke up fairly soon after Lafe had accidentally struck him long ago in the past. That had been the only time Lafe had witnessed him so vulnerable . . . until now.

Jane gave a sad meow and pawed at Coley's chest. Not getting a response, she cuddled close.

"I'll help you get him back into the lounge," Ray offered. "Maybe we can revive him together." As Jane moved, Ray reached out and Lafe started to get up, allowing Ray to help lift Coley. Placing his arms around their shoulders, they started to move forward. The pirates stood by, and Jim glowered at them to make way. Most of them began to back up.

Tycho sniffed in annoyance. "They should all be killed. They're so bothersome."

"Not yet," Loveless cried. "I never shoot anyone in the back. Let them go for now. I'll see that they're locked in the lounge."

The trip back up the hallway was long and agonizing. Jim felt a rush of helpless anger as they walked. They were still prisoners, and now one of them was hurt.

He clenched a fist. He had failed.

He could not allow it to happen again.

If he failed a second time, the injuries might be fatal.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Tycho was furious.

He stood in his stateroom, stroking his raven as he pondered on the mayhem that had been happening ever since he had come aboard.

He had stumbled across Dr. Loveless some time back, following the foiling of one of the doctor's many schemes against humanity. Tycho had felt that a great deal of Loveless's plans were quite good, and at the time, a partnership had seemed a logical and practical idea. Loveless had felt the same—or so he had said.

Now, however, Tycho was certain that the partnership would drive both of their plots into ruin. And he was certain that Dr. Loveless was coming to the same conclusion. Really, Tycho wanted to force Loveless to bend to his way of thinking. Loveless would be hoping likewise about Tycho bending. And since neither of them would be willing to compromise, this was already a disaster.

Obviously it could not continue. And if they argued in front of the prisoners, the prisoners would try to take it to their advantage and play the divide and conquer game.

"What shall we do?" Tycho mused aloud to his bird. "How shall we arrange it so our unfortunate former ally is the only one to suffer from this calamity and we shall triumph?"

The raven cawed, spreading and flapping its glossy wings.

Tycho gazed out the window, thoughtful, watching the clouds drift through the sky as the airship lazed along. He knew what Loveless's plan was for conquering California. He liked it and had even contributed to it. But he could not allow Loveless to succeed. If he had California, he would never be satisfied with only it. He wanted the world, just as Tycho did.

Perhaps Tycho should lure him into a false sense of security, allowing him to proceed with his plan. Then, when it was most unexpected, Tycho would see that he was put out of the way.

Meanwhile, however, something had to be done about the hostages, regardless of what Loveless wanted. If Tycho permitted them to try to stop Loveless, they might stop everything altogether at the same time. Tycho would have to have Butch and some of the other pirates get rid of them. Loveless would simply have to accept it; he shouldn't have done such an asinine thing to begin with.

Tycho smiled to himself as he continued to plot.

xxxx

Butch held the door as Ray and Lafe carried Coley's unconscious form into the lounge. "Don't try anything," he warned Jim, who was bringing up the rear.

Jim turned and gave him a cold glare. Not replying vocally, he stepped into the room. The door slammed shut behind him.

"How is he?" he asked, looking to the others.

"Still out," Ray said quietly in concern. Together, he and Lafe managed to lay Coley on the couch. Sadly meowing, Jane hopped up beside him.

"That guy hit him hard," Lafe remembered. Feeling helpless, he pulled a chair over and sank into it. "Hey, Coley. . . . Come on, wake up. Please."

"I'll get some water," Ray determined, heading for the kitchenette.

Jim laid one hand over the other as he observed the scene, concerned for Coley as well. "How's his pulse rate?" he asked.

"A little slow," Ray answered quietly.

Jim nodded. That wasn't a surprise.

By now Arte likely realized that something had gone wrong. Jim was not going to give up on planning to get out of this mess, but he hoped that Arte would be making his own plans. If they attacked at the same time, maybe that would be enough to knock their enemies off-guard.

He narrowed his eyes. While they were waiting and praying, he would also think on how they might get Loveless and Tycho to defeat each other. That was something that could be done at any point. And those two were already well on their way there without anyone's assistance.

Ray returned with a damp cloth, which he started dabbing across Coley's face and neck. Lafe sat and watched, gripping at the knees of his pants.

"I've never seen Coley like this," he admitted. "At least . . . not for long. Just for a few minutes, once."

"When you hit him?" Ray blurted without thinking.

Lafe colored. "He told you about that?!"

Ray flushed. "Just briefly. He didn't mention any of the details, except that it was an accident."

"It was," Lafe said, his tone forlorn. "I'd never hurt him on purpose. When I realized I'd conked him instead of one of the intruders . . ." He shook his head. "Well, it was horrible. And now he's laying so still again, this time because some creep just wanted to hurt him!" He clenched a fist. "Seeing him like this . . . it feels wrong. Not real, even."

Ray nodded slowly in understanding. "That's how I feel too. And it's how Coley felt when you were hurt back in December."

Lafe looked down. He remembered that time. That had felt wrong and unreal and uncomfortable too—waking up and realizing he had been hurt and finding Coley keeping vigil over him. Well, he had been surprised and moved by Coley's presence, and glad that Coley had cared so much, but he hated having made Coley worry.

"It's kind of funny," he said at last, speaking low.

"What is?" Ray wondered.

"Me being here like this, in this time, with Coley and with you." Lafe sighed, sadly. "I was jealous of you at first."

"I thought you were." Still not getting a reaction from Coley, Ray left the cloth on his forehead and knelt on the floor next to the couch.

"You knew?" Lafe gave Ray a stunned look, but he was half not expecting an answer. He was too worried about Coley.

"Yes. Or suspected, at least." Ray ran a hand into his hair. "Oh, why doesn't he wake up?"

"Maybe he'll have to sleep it off, like I did," Lafe frowned.

Neither of them wanted to voice the idea that maybe Butch had hit Coley too hard and he wouldn't wake up.

Jim stood by, still quiet, still observing, still planning and hoping. He wanted Coley to revive and be alright, too. And he wanted to get everyone off of this floating prison. He was convinced there had to be a way. Perhaps if he knew more about the structure of the airship it would help.

They had always defeated Dr. Loveless before. This would not be the one time they didn't, even though this time he had decided to partner with Tycho.

But if Coley didn't revive, it would certainly be a grave blow Loveless and Tycho would be dealing to them.

xxxx

On the ground, Arte and Snakes were tense and worried.

"They're still up there," Arte noted. "No sign of coming down." He shook his head. "I was afraid of that! Loveless just wanted to capture Jim, too."

Snakes swallowed hard. "So now there's no hope, unless we go after them?"

"That's what it's starting to look like. And I don't know how we'll go after them without risking them being killed as soon as we're spotted." Arte turned to Sergeant MacDonald. "Try raising them on the radio again."

"I've been trying," MacDonald said in frustration. "No one's answering."

Mrs. Featherstone wrung her hands. "Oh, the poor boys. And my poor baby!" She looked from the police to Arte, pleadingly. "Isn't there anything you can do?!"

Arte sighed. "As far as we know, Mrs. Featherstone, he'll do something to harm them if we make any noticeable move. We're going to have to find a way to do something without him knowing about it."

"I just can't comprehend anyone being so horrible!" Mrs. Featherstone declared. "Kidnapping all of those innocent people just to get one man onboard!"

"He'll do worse than that," Snakes muttered.

"Hey, the thing's moving!" someone yelled.

Everyone looked up with a jerk. Indeed, the zeppelin had turned and was now ambling across the sky, away from the golf club and towards the heart of the city.

"Can you tell where it's going?" MacDonald demanded.

Arte stared at it. "Unless I miss my guess, Sergeant, it seems to be heading in the direction of the Hall of Justice." He and Jim had become quite acquainted with the building on several of their visits, needing to testify against some of the madmen with whom they had tangled in this time. Even though the building itself could not be seen from here, it was the first location of which Arte thought when he saw the course of the airship.

"The Hall of Justice?!" MacDonald was deeply disturbed. "What do you think he's going to do, Gordon?"

"I don't know, sir." Arte shook his head. "With a man like this, it's hard to say."

"You don't think he would actually . . ." MacDonald trailed off, disturbed. "Try to blow it up?"

"I'm sorry to say that I wouldn't put it past him," Arte replied. "That man will do almost anything to get what he wants."

"Where did you say you know him from?"

Snakes cringed. Arte sighed but tried to wave it off. "That's not really important right now, is it, Sergeant? We have to start thinking of a way to get that airship down!"

MacDonald sighed too. "I guess you're right. But I've been racking my brain trying to think of a way. The Air Force is sending some men out. And we should bring in an expert on zeppelins; maybe they'd know what to do."

"Probably only from the inside, where we can't reach," Arte countered. "If I know Jim, he's working that angle right now. We have to help him out from down here."

"There's not much we can do down here," one of the frazzled officers spoke up.

"No, Officer Malloy," Arte agreed, reading the man's nameplate. "About the only thing we can do right now is pray." He paused. "And maybe it would be a good thing to get an expert here after all, just in case they'd know a way to bring it down from the outside. Perhaps they know the airship's weakest point."

"An airship has a lot of weak points," said Malloy. "The problem is targeting one that won't hurt anyone inside."

Arte considered that and slowly nodded. That was certainly a problem.

"It doesn't seem like there's much I can do here," Snakes said. "I don't know anything about these things. And at least you're technical-minded."

"You're right, of course," Arte mused. "Oh, you can go, Snakes. There probably really isn't anything you can do. At this point, I'm not sure there's anything _I _can do."

Snakes nodded and took a step aside, but stopped and lingered. Arte blinked, watching him questioningly. Finally the gambler sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I guess . . . I don't have anywhere I need to be right now," he said. "We can stand around and do nothing together."

Arte regarded him in touched surprise. Snakes wasn't going to admit that he was worried, but he definitely was.

"You haven't had any sleep," Arte pointed out.

Snakes shrugged. "I probably wouldn't sleep anyway, wondering if I'd wake up dead." He stared at the cruising airship. "But I bet I'll crash when this is over."

Sleep definitely sounded good right then. Arte knew he would not be getting any himself until this was over.

"Well," said MacDonald as he broke into the conversation, "at least you can eat." He motioned to one of the officers. "Put in an order at the nearest fast-food place," he requested.

"Oh, that won't be necessary, Sergeant," Mrs. Featherstone interrupted. "The golf club is right here. Anything you want, they can make."

MacDonald looked to her. "Thank you, Mrs. Featherstone, but none of us want to impose." Arte nodded in agreement.

"It wouldn't be any imposition," Mrs. Featherstone insisted. "All of the staff is worried about their boss and the security guards." She turned to hurry back. "They need something to do. They're probably already making breakfast. It won't be any trouble to bring some plates out for all of you."

Arte watched her make her way over the grass and into the main building. "That poor lady must just be about going out of her mind," he remarked. "This gives her something to do, too, even if just for a few minutes."

Snakes nodded. That was the downside of caring about people, he decided. All that stress and worry. He might ask whether it was worth it, but deep down, he felt he had already gone beyond that point. He knew his answer.

He started to reach for a cigar but thought better of it. Sighing, he tapped his fingers on the table and waited.

xxxx

Dr. Loveless was furious.

He paced the cockpit of the airship, tense and enraged. Antoinette and some of the pirates stood by, watching with unease.

"How dare he!" he fumed. "How dare he try to presume upon me! Who does he think found him when he was out of men and funds? Who does he think offered to let him join up with us?"

"You, of course, Miguelito darling," said Antoinette, perching on the edge of a console. "He knows it and he'll have to start coming around to your way of thinking."

"That's just it, Antoinette—I don't think he's going to!" Loveless clenched his fists in the air. "He's going to want to overthrow me, the same as I want with him!"

"What are you going to do, Dr. Loveless?" one of the pirates asked.

"We need to find a way to bring about his own downfall," Loveless determined. "While not bringing about our own!"

"Maybe if you set him up to be killed by West or one of the hostages," another pirate said.

"It wouldn't be easy to get him to fall for it," Loveless grumbled.

"We could just throw him out the door," said a third.

Loveless stiffened. "Why, that would be barbaric! I'm ashamed of you, Biff, for even thinking such a thing!"

"Isn't trying to off him at all kind of barbaric?" Biff said with a shrug. "I mean, it's nothing to us, but when you're partners and all."

"We never should have been partners," Loveless said sourly. "I should have left him where I found him!"

Antoinette slid down from the console. "I know you'll think of just the right thing to do, Miguelito," she proclaimed, laying her hands on his shoulders. "But right now it's time to eat. Come into the dining room and I'll fix you a big plate of pork chops and mashed potatoes."

"I don't have time to eat!" Loveless exclaimed. But Antoinette's touch _was_ soothing, and in spite of himself he found he was starting to calm down.

"Of course you do," Antoinette said firmly, steering him towards the door. "And after a good, hot meal, you should be able to figure out exactly what to do about Tycho."

Loveless finally went willingly. "Maybe you're right, Antoinette," he conceded. "A meal _does_ sound good about now."

Antoinette smiled, pleased.

The pirates just stared after them as they departed the cockpit.

"That was weird," said one.

"You know, I think all these people are nuts," Biff said. "Maybe we should be thinking about breaking ties with all of them and taking control of this ship."

"Yeah," came one voice.

"That's what we should be doing," said the other.

Biff smirked. "We'll have to talk to Butch about it, but I'm sure he'll agree. And they'll all be too busy eating food, and singing, and plotting against each other to pay any attention to us."

"We'll talk to Butch when it's time to switch off steering," one decided.

"Maybe he can set the prisoners loose and they can go after those nuts," suggested the other.

"That'd be a good distraction for us," Biff smiled.

It all sounded like a perfectly logical plan. And with so much tension and conflict, it was very likely to work.

The pirates continued to plot as the airship sailed on.

xxxx

_He was sprawled on the floor, dazed from Butch's hit. But he was not so dazed that he couldn't react to the sound of a gun clicking. He went stiff._

"_Lafe! What are you doing?" Ray screamed, unable to force his way through the throngs of pirates. He tried anyway, desperate, horrified._

_Coley jerked, looking up to face his killer. Indeed, Lafe was looking back at him, calmly holding his gun._

"_I didn't expect this of you, Lafe." He spoke darkly, but the hurt was in his eyes._

"_Sorry, Coley," Lafe smirked. "I just figured out that I have a chance to stay alive if I join them. Killing you should make them know I'm serious."_

"_They'll kill you anyway," Coley retorted. "They probably want to kill each other. What's to stop them from doing it to you, too?"_

"_Nothing, I guess. But I'll take my chances. I'd rather work for Butch than you. I might get more money this way, if I make it out alive." Lafe brought the gun to Coley's head._

"_It's funny how easy friendships die," Coley said._

"_Just about as easy as you will." Lafe fired._

Coley shot upright on the couch, his eyes wide, the cloth falling from his forehead.

"Coley?!"

He looked up with a start. Ray and Lafe were both there, looking surprised by his sudden revival, but also immensely relieved. Jim seemed to relax as well. Jane, on top of the couch, jumped onto his lap with a happy meow.

He petted her slowly. "What . . . what happened?" he mumbled, slumping back into the cushions.

"You don't remember?" Ray asked in concern.

"Someone hit me." Coley winced.

"It was Butch," Ray said, the anger in his voice. But it faded in the next moment. "Coley, we've been so worried. How are you feeling?"

Coley draped an arm across his eyes. "I got conked by what felt like a brick wall. How do you think I'm feeling?"

Ray shuddered. "I'm so sorry." The anger came back. "If I could have stopped him . . ."

"You would've if you could," Coley said. "You couldn't. It's okay; I'll get over this."

"You came awake so suddenly," Ray remarked. "Coley . . . is something else wrong?"

Coley flinched. ". . . I was . . . I was having some kind of dream. . . . No, a nightmare." He looked disgusted with himself.

Lafe frowned. It still amazed him a lot of the time, how close Coley and Ray were. He certainly couldn't feature Coley announcing such a thing to him. At least, he was sure Coley never would have done so while he was leading the gang.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ray queried, gently.

Lafe watched him. Clearly he knew better how to handle this type of situation. Lafe would have simply dived right in and asked what it was, if he had asked anything about it at all. Maybe that was one reason why Coley and Ray had bonded so well.

Coley shook his head. "Lafe went and joined the other side," he mumbled. "It's just stupid. It'd never happen."

Lafe looked down. "I'm glad you know that, Coley," he said quietly.

Coley took his arm away and looked to him. "You were always loyal to me," Coley said. "That's why you stayed with me against your better judgment. You would've packed up the gang and ran from Doc Kirby if it hadn't been for that."

Lafe shrugged. "We were all kind of scared of you when you got mad," he muttered.

"Yeah, I know. But it would've been me against all of you. You would've come out on top."

"We didn't want to do it that way," Lafe said. "Or I didn't. I don't know how the boys felt. I stayed because I was your friend, not just because I felt loyal to you. That's always why I've stayed, wherever we are."

Coley looked to him. "Friends aren't always loyal. You were both. You _are_ both."

"You must still kind of worry, though, or you wouldn't be dreaming about it, would you?" Lafe wondered.

Coley glowered at nothing in particular. "I've wondered that myself. That I must still worry, I mean. But it can't be true; there's no reason for me to doubt you. You'd die for me, Lafe. You almost did last December."

Lafe was still averting his gaze, but he nodded.

Realizing that Lafe was hurt, Coley struggled to sit up again. "I shouldn't have said anything about the dream," he said, disgusted once more. "This stupid headache's got me blabbing things I wouldn't otherwise."

"Don't worry about it, Coley," Lafe said. "I know you're not feeling well."

"But now you're probably going to keep thinking I'm always questioning your loyalty. I'm _not_." Coley reached and gripped Lafe's shoulder. "People dream about things all the time that wouldn't ever happen. That they _know_ wouldn't ever happen. But even when they know it, maybe sometimes it's still something they worry about deep down. Or maybe not worry, exactly, but it's their worst fear.

"I could just as easily have dreamed about Ray killing me. And it would be every bit as impossible as the idea that you'd do it."

Lafe started. "_Killing_ you?! You just said I joined the other side!"

Coley sighed. "Yeah, by killing me. I'm sorry, Lafe."

"I'm sorry, too. Coley, your dreams are crazy!"

"Nobody knows that better than me. I'm sick of them." Having still been too propped up to suit him, Coley sank down farther into the couch. Jane snuggled against his chest. Laying one hand on her, Coley reached for his oldest friend with his other. Not sure what to think, Lafe let Coley rest his hand on his arm.

"Lafe, I wouldn't have kept you around if I hadn't trusted you. And I wouldn't have offered you a position in this time if I didn't still trust you now."

Lafe looked into Coley's eyes, seeing the desperation to be believed. That was an unusual emotion for Coley. In the past, he had often all but commanded belief.

At last Lafe sighed and nodded. "I know, Coley." He managed a smile.

Ray smiled too. They would be alright, he was sure.

Jim had stayed silent, feeling it was a conversation that he should stay out of. But he was gratified that Coley was awake, for more reasons than one.

"I'm sorry you were hurt," he said to Coley. "Maybe it wouldn't have happened if I'd planned our escape better."

"Maybe, maybe not," Coley grunted. "We were surrounded; there wasn't much we could do."

"Maybe it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't kicked the guy holding a sword to me," Lafe said regretfully.

"That Tycho nut would've made me choose between you getting killed or the cat," Coley retorted. "You solved that problem." He scratched Jane's head and she closed her eyes in bliss.

"We all had to make split-second decisions," Ray said. "And while we're still trapped here, at least we're all still alive." He laid a hand on Coley's shoulder. "We have a chance to try again, when you're feeling up to it."

"And just what are we going to try when we try again?" Coley growled. "Just making a break for it didn't work."

"How much of this airship did you see?" Jim queried.

"Most of it," Coley shrugged. "Loveless let us take a tour. We didn't go into the staterooms, though; just looked in from the hall."

"And we weren't allowed in the cockpit," Ray added.

Jim nodded. "I'm going to see if I can take a tour of the ship like you did. I'm sure Dr. Loveless will want to show all of it to me. Do you remember seeing anything strange or unusual in the ship's design or functions?"

"Just about everything's strange and unusual to me," Lafe said.

"There were some thick, gold-looking pipes going along on the ceiling," Coley said, "but that could be normal for airships, for all we'd know."

"I don't suppose there's a computer onboard," Jim said. "Or at least a library."

"I remember seeing a library," Ray said. "There's also a room with a piano or a harpsichord or something like that."

"Alright." Jim nodded. "I'm going to try to get into the library and look around. Maybe there's a book on the construction of airships. And if there's nothing about visible pipes on the ceiling, we'll have to assume that's a Dr. Loveless exclusive."

"Maybe that's just the plumbing," Coley said. "Most airships don't have that, do they?"

"I don't know," said Jim. Ray also looked lost. "Right now, I'm going on the idea that it could be the plumbing, but it could instead have a much different purpose. With Dr. Loveless, the most innocent thing can actually be a deadly weapon in disguise, including supposedly random pipes."

"Oh, how pleasant," Ray muttered.

"And when this mess is over, is it going to just start up all over again?" Coley said in frustration. "These two nuts came through the portal. More of them could follow."

Jim paused. "I think we can be pretty sure that Arte is diligently trying to think of a way to close off the door to everyone other than the people who can use it responsibly."

"And what if that can't be done?" Ray wondered, quietly.

"I don't know," Jim said again.

An option they didn't want to consider was destroying the portal. Of course it would eliminate travel between the time periods, for them as well as for villains such as Dr. Loveless and Tycho. And an additional concern of Arte's was that they would not be able to destroy it knowledgeably. They might only bring worse damage to the space-time continuum by the attempt.

"We'll think about it after this is over," Jim added now. "There's other problems that are more pressing."

The others fully concurred.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Jim had little trouble getting out of the room and convincing Butch to let him take a complete tour—even though Butch was displeased about Jim having punched him earlier. According to Butch, Loveless wanted Jim to see all of the ship and he had fully planned on a tour before the little breakout incident happened. And so, sneeringly locking the lounge's door behind them, Butch led Jim down the hall and away from his friends.

Ray flinched when he heard the door lock. "Well," he sighed, "maybe at least Mr. West will have some luck in the library."

"Meanwhile, we're stuck in here again," Coley grumbled.

"You probably don't feel well enough to get up anyway, do you, Coley?" Lafe asked in concern.

Coley grunted and sighed, passing a hand over his eyes. "Probably not."

"And all of us being locked in here . . . it reminds me of when we were stuck in that shed we just couldn't bust open. Remember that?"

A bit of a smirk passed over Coley's face. "Old Man Jensen's shed?"

"Yeah."

"That was nuts," Coley proclaimed.

Ray looked back and forth between them. "When did that happen?" he asked, curiously. "Were you trying to rob him or something?"

"Nah, we were exploring and wandered in there and the wind slammed the door shut," Coley said. "Maybe. I always figured Jensen locked us in there on purpose. It took us several hours to get out of that rotten place."

Ray was focused on another part of what Coley had said. "Exploring?" he blinked. "You know, I'm suddenly realizing that I don't even know how you met. I always assumed it was when you decided to form the gang."

"It was a lot longer ago than that," Coley said. "Lafe's family moved into the neighborhood when I was twelve. He was fourteen and we kind of grew up the rest of the way together."

Lafe nodded. "We lost touch for a few years after that, though. Coley struck out on his own robbing places and when we found each other again, I'd already started rounding up some of the boys in the gang."

"Coley didn't influence you to become an outlaw, did he?" Ray wondered in a bit of concern. "Or vice versa?"

"We got the idea completely apart from each other," said Coley. "But when we met again, Lafe had the idea of me joining with them. He thought I'd be a better leader than him, even though he got along better with 'the boys'."

"Coley always was more forceful than me," Lafe said. "I thought he could get us to be the best we could."

"And I did good, too," Coley said. ". . . But maybe a little too good."

They all fell silent, thinking of the other gang members' refusals to accept the invitation to try going straight.

"There's still a chance they'll come around," Ray said at last.

"Yeah." Coley scratched at Jane's head with a finger. "Maybe." She snuggled close.

Lafe sighed. "So what are we supposed to do right now? Just sit around and wait for West to come back?"

"He'll try to get the word to us if he can," Coley said. "He wants to get us off this rig. And he can't do that if we don't know what we're supposed to do."

"Maybe he won't be able to get into the library," Lafe frowned.

"Maybe those pipes aren't anything important to getting out of here anyway," Coley returned.

"Maybe not," Ray conceded, wistfully.

They were all hoping _something_ would work. And they also wished they could be part of the solution. They didn't like sitting back and just waiting for someone else to take care of everything.

xxxx

It was easy enough for Jim to get to the library, as passing by it was part of the tour. But when he lingered, slowly moving inside and to a book lying open on a stand, Butch grew impatient.

"Hey, there's a lot to see," he frowned. "And Dr. Loveless probably really wanted to show you himself."

"Then get Dr. Loveless," Jim replied, already occupied with _The Cross-Sections of an Airship._ "I'll stay here and wait."

"He might not like me leaving you here alone, either," Butch said.

"I'm not going anywhere," Jim replied. "There's plenty to look at right here."

Butch sneered. "I didn't picture you to be into books."

Really, Jim enjoyed books as much as the next person; he just rarely had the time to indulge. Now, of course, it was all business.

"I didn't picture pirates to be falling in with mad scientists, either," Jim said.

"You've got a point," Butch smirked. "Okay, stay in here. And to make sure you do, I'm going to shut the door and put a guard in front of it."

Jim shrugged. "It's your choice. I just wonder how Dr. Loveless will like the way you're treating his guest."

"No different than how he was treating you," Butch said. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

With that he shut the door, leaving Jim with the books.

Jim turned another page, thoughtful as he examined the various layers and surprises that a standard airship was wont to have. There were some designs with pipes, he had discovered. Airships were so rare that they were really quite unique, especially the rigid zeppelins.

The pipes in this ship could simply be part of the design, maybe the plumbing. But he was not willing to discount the idea that they could have another purpose. Perhaps when Loveless reappeared, Jim would ask him. Knowing Loveless, he might very well say.

It was not, however, Dr. Miguelito Loveless who came through the door when the knob turned. It was an annoyed Tycho, who stopped and surveyed the scene with a displeased, unsurprised look.

"Well, Mr. West. So you've been released again. Was that on Dr. Loveless's command?"

"No, on mine," Jim returned. "I just wanted to take the tour my friends were allowed to have."

"And so you stopped to explore the library," Tycho said dryly.

Jim shrugged. "There's nothing like a good book."

"Yes. Especially if it's a book about your own predicament." Tycho looked pointedly at the open volume on display.

"I can't fool you, can I?"

"Not at all. You see, Mr. West, I am both smarter and more resourceful than my colleague."

"I don't think he would have been fooled, either," Jim said flatly.

"Perhaps not. But he is misguided enough to assume that it isn't a danger to keep his enemies alive."

"He's tried to kill me every now and then."

"He has a very strange relationship with you." Tycho leaned on the edge of a table. "On the one hand, yes, he wants you dead. Yet on the other hand, he clearly enjoys the challenge of trying to beat you. I don't know what he'd find to do if you weren't an obstacle in his path.

"In some respects I can't fault him. It is exciting and stimulating, to match wits with a good mind. But when that mind is repeatedly interfering with the execution of one's plans, it is more trouble than it's worth and should be eliminated."

"Which you're going to see to," Jim concluded.

"Not personally. But I will arrange it."

"That's the same thing."

Tycho spread his hands, conceding the point. "What I must decide is whether you should die before, after, or with your friends."

Jim's eyes narrowed. "I guess it would be too much to ask you to let them go."

"Of course it would be," Tycho replied. "But ask all you want, Mr. West."

"If you're going to conquer the world anyway, why bother with them?" Jim returned. "They can't be a hindrance to you on the ground." He crossed his arms. "Are you really that afraid of them?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Tycho sniffed. "I have nothing to fear from them, other than the annoying rabble-rousing they're causing while they're here, alive."

"Perhaps you're afraid that their 'annoying rabble-rousing' will cause some of your minions to change their minds about working for you," Jim suggested.

"It won't, unless your friends have the money and means to pay them as handsomely as we can," Tycho said. "And I am quite certain they don't.

"Actually, Mr. West, I simply don't like noise. It gives me a headache. Worse, I can't think. And you know how vital it is for me to think."

"Oh, by all means," said Jim. "But you must not have been thinking when you formed a partnership with Dr. Loveless. You both should have realized it wouldn't work."

"Yes, I will admit that we should have," Tycho said in irritation.

At that moment the door opened again, this time admitting Dr. Loveless and Butch. Loveless frowned, glowering at the scene before him with deeply rooted suspicion.

"Well, Tycho, I didn't realize you had left the privacy of your room," he said. "You seem so intent on staying separate from the rest of the world."

Jim concurred, remembering the glass that had kept him from getting to Tycho in Raven's headquarters. "That's right," he mused. "You didn't want to come out at all." Hoping to further the distrust and rivalry, he added, "Were you afraid of being contaminated by all the lesser beings?"

Tycho smirked, darkly. "That's not entirely untrue."

Loveless sniffed in annoyance. "Really, Tycho, how can you expect to rule the world with an attitude like that? Most people are an aggravation, it's true. But there are at least some that aren't as bad."

"Perhaps," Tycho retorted. "And perhaps deep down, what you really want is not so much to rule over the people but to walk among them. You're a contradictory enigma, Doctor. You say how much you despise the human race, you've tried to eradicate it more than once, and yet you create so many things for their use—even if you don't grant them access."

"How can I not create them, when my mind won't be silent?" Loveless exclaimed, shaking his fists.

Tycho ignored that. "And you repeatedly try to show how benevolent you can be, such as your excursion with the Bright Star Indians. Only once they turn against you, your attitude changes as well and you throw a tantrum and want to destroy them along with everyone else. It's so childish."

"Childish?!" Loveless screamed. "It is not childish! I am _never_ childish! I resent such an ridiculously unfounded accusation!"

Jim smirked, quietly slipping past the two quarreling cohorts and into the hallway. Butch followed him.

"What are you doing?" Butch frowned. "You set them going on purpose, didn't you?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Jim said with a slight incline of his head. "I wanted to ask you something, Butch. What are these pipes for?" He pointed towards the ceiling.

Butch's lips began to curl in a cruel grin. "They're what Loveless is going to use on Los Angeles," he said. "See, the way he told it, there's two chambers in the big thing that holds the fuel. One of them really has the fuel. The other, well, it's got some new kind of gas or poison or something."

"And he's going to start pouring it all over the city at a certain time," Jim realized in alarm. It was a modified version of a plan Loveless had used with a hot-air balloon. The zeppelin would move much faster.

"Something like that," Butch shrugged. "The pipes are hooked up to it. Their other ends come out on the outside of the ship."

"You realize you'll all be party to mass murder," Jim said. "Two of the men you're holding prisoner refused to go along with a plan like that, even if it meant they could loot the dead towns as much as they wanted."

"Well." Butch sneered at Jim. "The way the doctor tells it, no law enforcement will dare come after us once they see what happens to L.A."

"Don't bet on it," Jim snapped in disgust. He glanced up the hall. "Dr. Loveless is still busy. Why don't you go ahead and finish the tour?"

Butch walked past him. "I think we'll wait for him anyway. I'll take you back to the lounge."

Jim frowned but did not protest. He had learned the purpose of the pipes. Now he should regroup and try to craft a new plan with the others.

One way or another, they had to stop this barbarism.

xxxx

The prisoners in the lounge were growing restless again.

Lafe was wandering the room, idly checking for any possible, alternate exits they might have missed. Jane was exploring too, pawing at cabinets and falling heavily against the walls.

Coley was lingering near the door, leafing through the few books in a small bookcase and wondering how much longer Jim was going to be.

Ray gave a sigh, keeping his hands behind his back as he moved towards the large window. Outside, the city was proceeding as it always did. Most of the residents had no idea of what was transpiring here, or what possible horrors might be unleashed upon them within a very short time.

The Hall of Justice might be first. Ray had friends who might be there right now—Perry Mason, Hamilton Burger, Lieutenant Tragg. . . . Ray cringed at the thought of them being there, proceeding about their duties, right as Dr. Loveless unleashed his madness. Then they would very likely all be dead.

Ray shook his head, longing to banish the awful images from his mind.

Coley closed the latest book, crossing the room to Ray. "Hey," he greeted. "What is it?"

Ray turned to face him with a start. "Oh . . . it's nothing, really," he said. "Well, aside from worrying about what's going to happen to Los Angeles, of course. And us."

"There's something else," Coley said. "You've been acting kind of agitated ever since we were all talking earlier."

Ray finally gave in, leaning on the small pillar separating the windowpanes. "I guess I'm just surprised about you and Lafe," he admitted. "I had no idea you'd known each other for so long. And since you have, I . . . suppose I'm also surprised that you were so reluctant to trust Lafe when he first came to this time."

Coley pushed up his hat. "Like he said, we lost touch for a few years. You know how that is, drifting apart from people. And it's kind of hard to feel like you really know someone when it happens. People are usually always changing.

"It seems like every few years, we lose touch. First it was after Lafe turned nineteen. He went off to try to make his fortune and I was still desperately trying to support my mother and me. We wrote for a while, but that didn't last long.

"Then we hooked up again a few years later and decided to make a gang together, instead of being separate and rivals. So we spent time getting to know each other again. But that didn't last either, as you know, and eventually we had to go on the run for our lives. Cue the next three years.

"And now Lafe's come here and we're together again." Coley sighed, turning to look out the window. "Who knows—maybe in a few more years, we'll go our separate ways for the third time."

"Maybe." Ray pushed himself away from the pillar. "Or maybe this time you'll stay together." He glanced out the window without really looking. "I'd hate to think of you ever leaving Oak Bridge. I'd feel sad if Lafe did, too."

Coley looked to him. "I don't have any plans on leaving. But Lafe and I never planned to drift apart, either; it was just something that happened."

Ray nodded, slowly. "What was it like when you first knew him?" he wondered. "When you were teenagers?"

"Eh. We mostly wandered around town, got into trouble. If you're wondering if I was any more open back then, I wasn't. I was the man of the house and figured I had to be strong for my mother. I wasn't going to let that shield down for anyone, including Lafe. But it was nice to have him around. He really liked me and usually let me lead us into whatever we ended up getting into." Coley smirked. "He probably should have known better, being older and all, but sometimes it paid off. And sometimes he had to talk me out of some of the things I wanted to do." He nodded, mostly to himself. "Lafe was good at talking me out of things, sometimes. Other times I just wouldn't listen."

Ray smirked a bit before sobering. ". . . And when you were in the gang?"

"Lafe still mostly let me do my thing. Sometimes he wouldn't like something and would try to talk me out of it. And half the time I still didn't listen.

"We were pretty good at coordinating things, though. We always were. Lafe knew how I liked to try to catch our enemies off-guard when I was trying to find out if they were lying about something. He helped me with that now and then, like with Frank. He started the 'Let's be friends and have a drink' plan so we could surprise Frank and grab him and check his wallet.

"It turned out Frank was keeping the big bills from the Exchange office for himself. I still don't know if that was his plan all along or if he just did it when he was sore about me not letting him gun those frozen people down. Not that it really matters."

Coley paused, looking at Ray straight on. "We still haven't got to the real reason why you're wondering these things," he noted. "It's not just that you're curious."

"No, it's not." Ray sighed. "I guess what I'm really wondering is, if you and Lafe could drift apart after so much time together, what will happen between you and me in the future?"

Coley frowned. "I can't say," he said. "No one can. All I can say is that you were the first person I ever really opened up to. And because of you, I was finally able to open up to Lafe.

"I don't want to drift apart from either one of you. And I'll fight for it not to happen like I've never fought for anything before, except maybe my life."

Ray finally relaxed and smiled. "Good," he said. "I feel the same way."

Lafe stood near a cabinet, silently listening. "I do too," he said quietly. He didn't want to drift apart from Coley again. He was sick of it happening. Even though he was still struggling to get used to living honest, as well as to living in a world of modern technology, and even though he doubted he would ever fully get over his motion sickness (pity this Loveless was the only guy who had made a pill for it without side effects), he still wanted to stick it out. He would rather have all of those problems and be with Coley instead of going back to the 1870s without him.

He blinked at a weight and a nudge against his legs. Jane was rubbing against him and every now and then bumping her head against the backs of his legs.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were telling me to go over to them," he muttered.

Jane merowed.

"She probably is," Ray said with a smile.

Lafe looked up with a start. Both Coley and Ray were watching him, and starting to come over to where he was. He moved towards them, Jane at his side.

"I like to consider that we're all friends now," Ray said. "Maybe even family."

Again Lafe looked surprised, particularly by the last part. "Family," he mused. He smiled a bit. "I like that."

"And when it comes down to it, we don't know if we're even going to get out of this crummy mess alive," Coley said. "The door could bust open and we could be gunned down by pirates at any time."

Ray sighed. "There's worse ways to spend our possible final hours," he said. "At least we're together. And maybe, hopefully, there still is hope."

The door opened at that point, admitting Jim. It shut immediately after him, with Butch cackling something that sounded like, "I'll tell Dr. Loveless to take you on that tour when he's free."

Jim ignored him, instead walking across the room to the others. They crowded around, amazed and bewildered and concerned.

"What happened?" Coley demanded. "Butch was supposed to take you on the tour."

"We got interrupted," Jim said flatly. "But I got Loveless and Tycho going again. And Butch told me something about the pipes." He quickly repeated what the pirate had told him.

Lafe cringed. "The pipes are going to carry some kind of poison all over the city?" he gasped. "Are you sure he's telling the truth?"

"No, but I know it sounds like something Loveless would do," Jim answered. "For the time being, at least, I'm going to assume it is true. And that means we have to figure out what unleashes the poison and how to stop it from happening. That will probably take either a trip to the cockpit or a control room."

"And the cockpit doesn't seem to be part of the standard tour," Ray remembered. "We didn't see any control room, either. What are we going to do?"

"I'm not sure yet," Jim said. "We'll have to get out of here again, but it can't be by making a huge commotion. This is about where Arte usually comes in one of his disguises and distracts everyone so I can do what needs to be done elsewhere."

Coley grunted. "We could use him."

Jim nodded. "But unless he's found a way to get up here without being noticed, we'll have to go on without him."

"And it would be impossible to get up here without someone noticing him," Ray groaned.

"Maybe not," said Jim. "This is Arte we're talking about. But we can't wait for him, anyway. We don't know when Loveless might decide to exterminate the city of Los Angeles."

"That's true," Lafe said, sickened. "And Tycho probably wants to get rid of us right away, doesn't he?"

"He does. So," Jim said, looking to each of the others, "we'd better start planning now."

They most definitely concurred.

xxxx

Captain Michael Caldwell was a seasoned Air Force officer, having fought in more than one war before a misunderstanding over his conduct had sent him to a job in the inspector general's office instead. And, following a long and painful series of events, that had since been corrected.

He was also familiar with the mad scientist Dr. Portman's torture, and was aware of Ray's existence as another of her victims. They had never really associated, but he had asked for this assignment when he had learned that Ray had been abducted by another mad scientist.

"Who's in charge here?" he demanded of a police officer as he arrived outside the Oak Bridge Golf Club.

"I am," came another voice. Sergeant MacDonald stood up from the table with the radio. "And these men are friends of James West, the man the kidnapper insisted on seeing."

"Captain Caldwell." Caldwell shook MacDonald's hand and turned his attention to Arte and Snakes. "What's the current situation?"

"Bad, I'm afraid, Sir," said Arte. "As you've probably seen, the airship is over near the Hall of Justice. We're concerned Dr. Loveless may be about to enact some part of his awful plan over there."

"Then I'll need to get airborne on the double," Caldwell declared.

"Oh . . . I agree, Sir, but how?" Arte asked in concern. "They can't be given any sight of you."

"There's birds these days that can slip past most radar devices," Caldwell said. "I'm authorized to take one up right now to try to stop this insanity. I'll go up behind the ship and try to stay behind it until I can climb to an altitude above it. I'll be ready to counter them if they make their move."

Snakes gaped up at the sky in disbelief, horrified at the thought of being suspended so high in the air and possibly engaging in battle up there.

"What sort of counter, Captain?" Arte queried. His stomach was starting to tie up in knots. "Surely you're going to try to save the hostages."

"All that I can," Caldwell said. "But . . . I'm sorry, but if they start launching an attack to wipe out this city, I won't have any choice but to bring it to a halt any way I can, including the immediate destruction of the airship."

Arte paled, while Snakes' eyes went wide. "They don't want any part of this!" Snakes exclaimed. "They shouldn't have to be sacrificed."

He was almost as surprised to hear himself speak as Arte was. It was certainly a different attitude from when he had not cared who died on Mt. San Antonio, as long as the Posey gang did.

Caldwell frowned. "I know they shouldn't," he said. "I'll be trying to find a way into the ship so that maybe I can go in and save them. But it might not be possible. As horrible as it sounds, if I have to choose between a handful of hostages or the millions of people in Los Angeles, well . . ." He drew a deep breath. "You surely know what has to be done."

A chill went up Arte's spine. Yes, he knew. And he knew that Jim would fully agree, no matter how heart-wrenching it would be to let him and the others trapped up there to die.

He also realized what would happen if Caldwell was inside the ship at the time the attack was being launched on Los Angeles.

". . . You would sacrifice yourself as well, wouldn't you, Captain," he said at last.

Caldwell nodded. "Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good. I'm no different. And if I'm with the hostages and it becomes necessary for them to die, I'll get it too."

Arte scratched his cheek, trying to think of how to put into words what was on his mind. "Actually, Captain, I realize this probably goes against not only your orders but common sense, but Jim and I have been through many dangerous situations together. Not to mention, we've met Dr. Loveless quite a few times, whereas no one here has ever tangled with him before. I would like the chance to come with you and be part of this rescue operation. If more than one of us is there, we might have a better chance of rescuing those unfortunate souls instead of forcing them to give up their lives for the city."

Caldwell shot him a Look. "I was getting to that. I tried to dig into the files to see if this Dr. Loveless ever struck anywhere before. What I discovered is that a Dr. Miguelito Loveless wrecked havoc on the world multiple times about 140 years ago. And a James West and an Artemus Gordon were often instrumental in stopping those plots, even though Loveless himself usually escaped." He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. Neither Arte nor Snakes were pleased to see a printed shot of Jim and Arte with Loveless and Voltaire following their second and last arrest.

". . . Oh." Arte looked up at him with a worried smile. "You know, if you call the U.N.C.L.E., the director can probably explain it to you."

"He probably could. But I'm asking _you,_ Mr. Gordon." Caldwell's eyes bored into Arte's. "What are you doing here? What is _he_ doing here?" He pointed at Loveless's image.

Arte drew a deep breath. "It's a very long and complicated story, really, and I'm afraid we just don't have time for it right now. Not with so many lives at stake." He paused. "But I am giving you my word, Captain, something is going to be done to try to prevent anything like this from happening again. I've put it off for far too long."

His last statement wasn't entirely true; instead of leaving the matter alone, Arte had been working on the problem between cases and trying desperately to think of a solution. But there had been a heavy caseload and no real chance to get away and try to implement any one of his possible ideas. And, Arte had to admit, things had been proceeding so peacefully that he had hoped it would prove unnecessary to attempt any such thing. He wasn't sure what sort of damage could result from such a venture.

"You'd better see that you do. If you come back from this operation alive." Caldwell refolded the paper and put it in his pocket.

Arte perked up. "Then you'll let me come along?"

"Once I realized who you and West were . . . _are . . ._" He scowled, confused over which tense to use under the circumstances. "Well, anyone with any military education has heard of the James West and Artemus Gordon who fought in the Civil War and afterwards were early champions of the Secret Service."

"Then, if you know that, Captain . . ." Arte looked at him pleadingly. "You must realize what a disaster it could be to kill someone who's here from the past. It could alter history!"

"I've thought of that," Caldwell nodded. "Anyway, you're right that there's no time for long stories. You're welcome to come with me, Mr. Gordon. I'd frankly be honored."

Arte relaxed. "Thank you, Sir."

He looked to Snakes. "We'll have to be leaving right now," he said. "You don't have to wait any longer, Snakes. Go on home."

Snakes hesitated. "Well . . . I, uh . . . I'd like to, but I don't feel right about not doing anything else to try to save them." He shuddered, again gazing up into the sky.

"You brought us here, Snakes. That was plenty," Arte assured him. "Please, don't feel obligated to follow us up there. It isn't a task for civilians, anyway."

"I was a soldier, once. And blowing up that back-up counter wasn't any piece of cake."

Caldwell blinked. "What's he talking about?" He looked to Snakes. "And who are you, anyway?"

"Snakes Tolliver," Snakes said at last. "I'm . . . well, I was trying to help the people being held hostage. I went and got West and Gordon."

"And you used to be a soldier?" Snakes nodded. Caldwell sighed. "Well . . . I have to admit that more people could raise the odds in the hostages' favor. Providing that everyone knows what they're doing and Dr. Loveless could be kept unaware of all of us."

Arte looked to Snakes. He could see the former criminal was scared. Snakes had been trying to go straight, but he seemed to be right that every time he tried to help someone he ended up hurt. He bore permanent scars from at least two such occasions. Arte didn't want to get him into more trouble. At the same time, he wanted to give Jim and the others every break he could.

"I'll leave it up to you, Snakes," Arte said at last, quietly. "But you don't have to come."

"Actually . . ." Snakes drew a deep breath. "I think I do. They've been decent to me. I want to prove that means something to me and that I didn't just take them for granted when the sun was shining. I want to prove I can be there when it's raining, too. I want to get them down."

Arte sighed now, but he was touched. Snakes was changing, even trying to venture out to discover the value of friendship. Coley, Ray, and Lafe had really had an influence on him for good in the past several months.

Caldwell nodded, curtly. "Then it's settled. Come on; we have to go _now._" He turned, heading for his Jeep.

Arte and Snakes hurried after him. Each was praying that this would work and no one would have to die.

Including them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

It was several minutes later when Jim knocked frantically on the door leading out of the lounge. Butch opened it with an annoyed frown. "What do you want?" he snapped. "I told you Dr. Loveless would give you the rest of the tour."

"I know, but this has nothing to do with that." Jim gestured into the room, where Lafe was sprawled on the couch, moaning, and Ray was trying to comfort him. "The good doctor's motion sickness remedy has worn off. I want you to get him now so he can get a second pill for Lafe."

Butch frowned, coming over to the doorway and peering into the room. "It's not supposed to wear off that fast," he said. "He gave some to some of my crew and it lasted for hours."

"Lafe's been so upset that it wore off a lot faster," Jim returned.

"And what about his other buddy, the curly-haired guy I clobbered?" Butch continued. He started to turn, suddenly suspecting he was walking into a trap.

He didn't suspect it fast enough. Coley came from behind the door, bringing his fists down hard on Butch's neck. The pirate grunted in pain, slumping to the floor.

Jim hurried and knelt down, wrenching Butch's arms behind his back and snapping on the handcuffs. "Alright," he said, pleased with how the first phase of the plan had come off, "now we have to find our way to either the cockpit or the control room."

"And this time, not get stopped by a bunch of pirates," Coley grumbled.

Lafe sat up. "You're telling me," he frowned. "The next time one of us gets hit, it might be for keeps."

"That's why we're going to be extra careful that it doesn't happen this time," Jim said.

"Should we split up?" Ray wondered. "We could cover more ground, so to speak."

Jim considered it. "We know where the cockpit is, so let's all try to get in there first," he said. "If something goes wrong, we'll split up."

"If we run into Tycho, it's probably all over," Lafe worried.

"Hopefully he'll still be arguing with Loveless," Jim said. "Try to steer clear of the library for now, just in case."

"You don't have to tell us twice," Coley declared, heading for the door. Jane bounded after him.

Jim frowned. "Jane should really stay in here," he said.

"She won't," Ray told him. "Believe me, Mr. West, we tried to get her to stay before." He sighed. "And it might be better to see her anyway and know what she's up to."

"Not to mention that if we don't get back, she'd be trapped here," Lafe said. "We can't have that."

Coley regarded Lafe in touched surprise at his thoughts for the cat. Lafe shrugged and looked away, a bit embarrassed. He hadn't really bonded with Jane, but he knew Coley and Ray and Mrs. Featherstone loved her. And if Jane loved him now, he supposed he wanted to make more of an effort to make friends with her.

Jim decided not to argue. "Alright. Let's go before any more time goes by."

Ray and Lafe hurried into the hall after him.

"Everything's so quiet, just like the last time," Ray worried. "We could get jumped at any minute."

The sounds of talking and laughing from a side corridor almost immediately drifted their way. Frowning, Jim ground to a halt and indicated for everyone else to stop as well. They did, and two pirates soon walked past the hallway that connected like the top of a T.

"Everything's almost ready now," one was saying. "Those nuts will never know what hit them."

"We just have Kane and Butch to tell," the second added.

"What's going on?" Ray hissed. "It sounds like they're planning a double-cross."

"That's probably exactly what they're doing," Jim said. "The good doctor and Tycho finally got on their last nerve."

Coley peered around the corner once the footsteps faded. "You know, I hate to say it, but right now the pirates might be our best allies, if that's the way they all feel."

"It would sure be better to have them on our side instead of against us," Lafe declared. "But how could we trust them?"

"We couldn't," Jim said. "They'd eliminate us as soon as our mutual enemies were taken care of. But maybe by that point we'd have control of the ship." He looked thoughtful. "It would certainly help if we didn't have to stay on guard looking for pirates when we're trying to focus on stopping Loveless and Tycho's plans."

"But how do we get them to stay quiet long enough to listen to us, instead of sounding the guard?" Lafe wondered.

"They might not want to bring attention to themselves right now, either," Jim mused. "If we calmly approached them, we might not have any trouble getting them to listen."

Coley shrugged. "It's worth a try, anyway."

Jane leaned against and rubbed his legs. She approved.

xxxx

Snakes was silent as they bounced along in the Jeep, headed for the airstrip where Captain Caldwell was keeping his plane. He held onto his hat, not wanting it to fly away in the breeze. At his side, Arte was doing the same thing.

It was strange when he thought about it—him going along. He had hoped it wouldn't be necessary. And he could have easily backed out; Arte had given him that choice more than once.

Yet he had chosen to stay, both when it came to waiting around and now that going into the lion's den was the next step. How had these other lives come to mean that much to him?

Because of what he had told Arte, he supposed. He wanted to return their kindness. And he didn't want to think of them suffering.

So what did that mean? That his reasons were partially selfish and partially unselfish?

He wasn't sure.

"So, when were you in the military?" Captain Caldwell suddenly asked, breaking into his thoughts.

Snakes started. "Oh, uh . . . a while ago," he stammered, suddenly not sure how welcome the full truth would be even though Caldwell was aware of from whence Arte hailed.

"He isn't from this time either, Captain," Arte interjected.

Caldwell raised an eyebrow. "I see." He paused, mulling it over in his mind. "Civil War?"

"That's right." Snakes squinted through the hair blowing into his eyes. "Confederate Army."

"That's interesting." Caldwell seemed to be taking it all in stride. "Were you one of the patriots strongly advocating the succession of the South?"

"I was just a stupid kid who thought the Army was the way out of all my troubles," Snakes said honestly.

"And you soon learned otherwise, eh?"

"You said it," Snakes sighed. "The Army taught me how to kill. I'd never done anything like that before.

"But you must be one of the people who liked the military," he added, deciding he wanted to shift the topic away from himself. Up ahead, he noted, was a small airfield.

Caldwell nodded. "I made a career out of it. Fought in the Bosnian War. I was glad when that ended and I could switch to a less violent assignment."

"But you're still called in on dangerous missions when needed," Arte spoke up.

"Yes." They approached the gate and Caldwell showed his identification to the guard. After being waved on through, he stopped the Jeep and got out. "The plane's here. Let's go."

Arte and Snakes got out as well, staring at the plane looming above them with mixed feelings. Although they had ridden in a helicopter multiple times, they had never been on an airplane. And even during their times in helicopters, it had never been for something quite as critical as this.

Snakes drew a shaking breath. "I must be crazy, to be coming along on this," he said.

Arte looked to him. "You can still back out, you know," he said quietly.

"I know, but crazier still, I'm not going to." Snakes started to move toward the plane. "I'm in this for the long haul."

Arte nodded. "I believe you are," he said. "And although I wouldn't have thought it a few months back, now I also believe that you are a valuable man to have along."

"And hopefully a still-living one when it's all over," Snakes remarked.

"I hope that too," Arte said seriously.

They followed Captain Caldwell into the plane and, on his directions, sat down and strapped themselves in. Soon the plane was traveling down the airstrip and launching into the sky.

Arte stared out the window as they rose. "This is quite a bit different from a helicopter," he said in amazement. "It's so quiet. We were always having to yell to be heard in the helicopter."

Snakes nodded. "It looks like we're going a lot faster, too," he said. "But I don't feel it."

Caldwell smiled. "I never could get used to helicopters. Now, airplanes—there's where it's at for me." He sobered, looking ahead. "And we're going to be behind the airship, just as planned."

"As long as it doesn't suddenly turn around," Arte said.

"And as long as it doesn't have some kind of sensors to tell if anyone's there," Snakes frowned.

"It really shouldn't," Arte mused, "but this is Dr. Loveless we're talking about. It's possible."

Caldwell's eyes narrowed. "What do you think he would do if he spotted us?"

Arte sighed and shook his head. "Honestly, Sir, I don't know. He might threaten to kill the hostages. Or he might suddenly go through with his city domination plan, without us having any chance to stop him. He could probably drop something from the airship instantaneously, if he chose."

"And let's not forget the guy I ran into," Snakes said. "Maybe he's up there too."

"I wouldn't be a very good judge on what he might do," Arte said with regret. "I never met Tycho."

"He seemed like someone who wouldn't put up with any kind of nonsense," Snakes said.

"What's this about someone named Tycho?" Caldwell frowned. "I didn't find any record of him in those files."

"Oh . . . well, he's someone else like Dr. Loveless, I'm afraid," Arte said. "At least where world domination is concerned."

"He's arrogant, too," said Snakes.

"Hmm. I wonder how he and Dr. Loveless are getting along," Arte mused. "I thought it might not work out very well."

"That might work to our advantage," Caldwell said. "They might be less likely to notice us." They were still coming up behind the airship, which had not moved or given any indication of the occupants noticing the airplane's presence.

"Are we really, for all intents and purposes, invisible?" Arte marveled.

"The closest thing to it," Caldwell said.

As they arrived directly behind the airship, Caldwell paused and waited. Still not receiving any acknowledgment, he moved the airplane up above it.

"I still don't see how we're going to get inside," Arte frowned. "Not unless there's a platform and an elevator on the roof."

"There's an international corporation that has an airship like that," Caldwell remarked. "But I'm not seeing anything of the kind on this one."

Arte sighed. "Dr. Loveless either didn't think about it, or he did, and didn't add it just so that people couldn't hijack the ship that way," he decided. "And knowing Dr. Loveless, I wouldn't be surprised if it's the latter."

"So we'll have to wait," Caldwell said. "If everything is going as planned on the ship, we'll probably get another announcement when something's going to happen."

Arte interlocked his fingers. "That's the thing I detest the most about my job," he declared. "Even more than fighting, I can't stand waiting."

"You have a lot of company, Mr. Gordon," Caldwell said.

Snakes silently concurred. Waiting was always terrible, especially when wondering if death was going to come, and how soon.

xxxx

As it turned out, Jim was right—the pirates were eager to go in with them on a plan to overthrow Loveless and Tycho. A small group gathered in the cockpit to plot.

Coley was cautiously optimistic. Of course they all knew that the pirates could not be trusted, as they had already discussed. He wasn't even fully sure that they would help at all, in the end. Maybe they would still think that Loveless and Tycho were the most profitable ones to follow, and they would lead Jim and company on only to betray them when it best suited them.

"We should also know how to steer this ship," Jim said. "Any one of us might have to bring it down in a hurry."

A pirate nodded agreeably. "It's pretty easy to work with," he said. "This Loveless guy might be nuts, but he knows how to make a good machine."

He demonstrated the various controls and their usage, and Jim took special note that the levers and buttons actually did as the man claimed. It would be so easy to pretend that they had certain functions, if they were only pointed at and not used, but Jim made sure that each was given a practical demonstration.

"You know," he mused, "we could just bring the airship down right now. Dr. Loveless and Tycho wouldn't be able to do a thing about it."

"That's where you're quite mistaken, Mr. West."

Everyone stiffened at the sudden voice. Tycho was not in the cockpit, but his voice was very audible. Jim's eyes narrowed and his stomach twisted at the realization that Tycho had, indeed, been listening to everything—just as Jim had feared.

Concern flickered through the pirates' eyes. Now Tycho, at least, knew about their secret alliance.

"You are very crafty, Mr. West, just as I remember you were in the past," Tycho continued. "And of course I knew that the loyalty of pirates could not be depended upon. That was why I felt it in my best interests to install a listening port. I see that I was correct in my predictions."

"Maybe so, Tycho," Jim returned, "but what do you think you're going to be able to do about it? Even if you and Dr. Loveless decide to set aside your differences, you're still only two people against all the rest of us."

"You should have more faith in us than that, Mr. West!" Dr. Loveless suddenly exclaimed. "You see, I don't need the controls in the cockpit to unleash my new weapon. There's another lever somewhere on this ship that only I know the location of. If you try to do anything foolish, all I have to do is pull that, right now, and the entire Hall of Justice will be vanquished. And that's just to start with!"

Jim's eyes narrowed. "I should have known."

"Yes, you should have!" Dr. Loveless said in delight. "But it makes it so much more fun that you didn't think of it!"

Coley clenched a fist. He didn't dare speak when he knew they would hear him, but his eyes flamed with frustration and anger.

"This is only a temporary setback, Doctor," Jim said now. "You should know that I won't give up until I find your other lever."

"Oh, naturally, Mr. West. But will you find it before I decide to give the population of Los Angeles a taste of my power?"

Jim gestured to Coley and the others, silently telling them to get out and begin the search. Nodding, Coley opened the door to the cockpit and stepped into the corridor. Lafe, Ray, and Jane followed, along with several pirates. Jim ran out last, Dr. Loveless's insane laughter ringing in his ears.

"So what do we do now?" Coley growled as Jim shut the door behind them.

"We don't have any choice. We have to find this other lever," Jim replied. "Not to mention Dr. Loveless and Tycho. If we can entrap them, they won't be able to use the lever."

"Unless it's right with them all the time," Coley frowned. "Maybe it's a remote control."

"I've thought of that, too," Jim said. "So we'll make finding Loveless and Tycho top priority, even above the lever. Now, spread out in teams of two or more and look!"

"Someone should go with you, too, Mr. West," Ray said.

"I'll go," Lafe volunteered.

Coley regarded him in surprise. "Okay, Lafe. Get going then."

He and Ray hurried in another direction, Jane scampering at their heels.

Jim stood by, watching the other teams begin to separate and spread out before turning to go down another path. Lafe kept pace alongside him.

"I'm surprised you didn't go with Rodman," Jim remarked.

"Well . . ." Lafe shrugged. "I thought maybe he'd like to spend some time alone with Ray, even if it's to look for two crazies." He sighed. "We don't really know if any of us are going to get out of this alive."

Jim nodded, sobered. "That's true, we don't. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you and the others get off of this ship safe. But in the end, something could still go wrong."

"Especially when the whole city, and I guess the whole world, is at stake," Lafe said. "We might have to sacrifice ourselves for everybody else, right?"

"It might come to that," Jim admitted grimly.

Lafe shook his head. "That's weird to think about. I never thought that might be how I'd die."

"I'm sure Snakes never thought it about himself either, but he did it last December and he survived." Jim looked to Lafe. "So there's always hope, even if it comes to that."

"Yeah," Lafe mused. "I guess so."

Jim paused. "You know, of course, that if this is the end, Rodman would want to spend time with you, too."

"I know," Lafe nodded. "And I'll make sure I see him again. Well, if I can, I mean. But it's not just the two of us anymore; Ray's here too, and here to stay."

"Are you sure you're not still jealous of him?" Jim wondered.

"I don't think I am," Lafe said. "I guess, though, I know how I felt, and I know I'd want some one-on-one time with Coley, so I thought Coley and Ray might like some too."

Jim nodded. "Hopefully, you'll still all get to spend as much time with each other as you'd like," he said, again hating that Dr. Loveless had thrown them into this situation just to get at Jim.

He hoped that he would see Arte again, too. He certainly did not want this to be the end. But he knew what his duty was, if it came to that. And even though Lafe and the others weren't government agents, they knew and were willing to lay down their lives in the same cause.

That meant a great deal.

xxxx

Tycho crossed his arms. "How noble," he mocked. "All of them willing to be sacrificed for the greater good." He stepped away from the master listening port in his cabin, which let him listen to every other port he had installed on the ship.

Dr. Loveless scowled. "I don't like how everyone has such little privacy and they don't even know it. You know I don't go in for these kinds of tricks. You didn't even let me know you had sent someone through the portal to order these listening ports when the ship was being built!"

"Of course not, because I knew you would object. Still, you certainly had no qualms about slipping a drug into your servants' food that made them kill each other off," Tycho said dryly. "Having done that, can you really criticize my listening ports? Thanks to them, I learned of the pirates' unease sometime back—although I didn't let on to Mr. West that I knew. And we both heard them conspiring with Mr. West and the other hostages just moments earlier."

"That's true," Dr. Loveless conceded, "but I still don't like it."

"You have such a contradictory sense of honor, Doctor," Tycho said. "By the way, of course you also must realize that I overheard _you_ plotting against me, too."

"Well . . ." Dr. Loveless threw up his hands. "We know that we're both regretting this partnership."

"At least I have to be grateful that your sense of honor extends to not allowing me to be thrown out of the airship at the altitude we're currently sustaining," Tycho said, still with that dry, sarcastic tone. "Although I can't help wondering if your concept of a merciful betrayal would be just as bad. In my own estimation, all betrayal is alike."

"It isn't!" Dr. Loveless immediately retorted. "Some forms of betrayal are much worse than others."

"Hmm." Tycho looked most unsurprised. "Then once again, we have found a principle on which we thoroughly disagree.

"But nevermind that. The main issue before us now is deciding what to do about all of our poor, misguided, noble hostages and our foolish, mercenary, ignoble pirates." Tycho laced his fingers.

"Let them run around for a while," Dr. Loveless grinned. "It's not as though they're going to find anything, since I have the control for the lever right here." He drew a small joystick out from inside his suit coat.

Tycho nodded, thoughtfully. "I suppose they can't do much harm searching the ship," he said. "But they are looking for us more than a separate lever. It's already occurred to them that one of us may be holding it."

Dr. Loveless still looked gleeful. "And the instant they do find us, all I have to do is pull the lever, right in front of them. There's nothing they can do to save the Hall of Justice. And there won't be anything they can do to save the city or the world!"

Tycho leaned back, allowing himself a cruel smirk. "I _will_ enjoy seeing their faces when you pull the lever," he said. "Especially Mr. West's."

Dr. Loveless nodded. "And after the Hall of Justice is vanquished, I will have another surprise in store for Mr. West and his friends," he reveled.

"You said you would let them go," Tycho noted, "but you never actually said you would let them go _alive._"

Dr. Loveless grinned wildly. "Of course I didn't, because I won't."

"You are truly devious, Doctor, in spite of whatever honor you claim to possess," Tycho commented. "This side of you I like."

On its perch, the raven spread its wings and cawed in agreement.

xxxx

Ray nervously watched as Coley opened another door in the hall. They had taken a path that had led them right to the music room. Now, as they stood in the doorway and watched, Antoinette calmly played the harpsichord, seemingly oblivious to their presence.

Coley pulled the door shut again. "Do you think it's possible that the doc hid the other lever with her?" he wondered. "She's completely loyal to him."

"And apparently even loves him," Ray said, shaking his head. "I don't know, though. Dr. Loveless seems to like to be in complete control. If the other lever is portable, I can't quite imagine him passing it on to anyone."

"Yeah," Coley frowned. "What if it's in the wall or on a control panel, though? Maybe she's guarding it."

"Maybe," Ray conceded. He sighed. "I guess we'll have to look in there in any case."

Coley grunted. "We can't overlook this place," he agreed. Neither of them was looking forward to talking with Antoinette again, but there was no other choice. Coley opened the door a second time and stepped inside, with Ray and Jane right with him.

Antoinette still seemed not to notice them, as she continued to calmly play and sing one of her favorite pieces. _"I know where I'm going,"_ she sang, her melodic voice echoing through the room via its specialized acoustics. _"And I know who's going with me. . . ."_

Coley stayed quiet, keeping to the back of the room as he peered behind instruments, stands, and bookcases filled with sheet music. Jane helped by peeking at the lowest shelves and pawing some of the music aside.

Ray took the other side of the back of the room, slowly moving over the plush pink carpet and around a large potted plant to arrive at the room's window. The long pink drapes were blowing in the breeze from an air conditioning vent directly underneath the rounded pane. He paused, marveling and wondering for a moment as to why the curtains were so long for such a small window. But he shrugged it off and kept going. Now he was approaching a large harp.

If Antoinette was aware of them by now, she apparently didn't care. She finished her song only to start another, and Ray was again surprised. He had never heard _Sloop John B_ played on a harpsichord before. And he was sure that song had not existed in the time period from whence Antoinette hailed. He wondered where she had learned it.

Coley was moving along the opposite wall now, past another, larger bookcase—this one bearing glass doors—and busts of several famous composers. He raised an eyebrow to see Dr. Loveless's signature on the one of Ludwig von Beethoven. The man certainly had a wide range of interests. Too bad he couldn't put the harmless ones to use and not the crazy ones, Coley thought to himself.

Not being familiar with _Sloop John B_ in the first place, he was unaffected by hearing such a unique version. But he did keep track of the singing in the back of his mind, wondering what Antoinette would do upon finishing that piece.

As it turned out, she paused for a brief moment and then proceeded to quietly play an instrumental composition. "You're not going to find what you want in here," she announced.

Both Coley and Ray gave a start. "How long have you known about us being here?" Coley demanded.

She shrugged. "I saw your reflection when you opened the door." She indicated the gold-plated music stand on the harpsichord.

Coley muttered under his breath. Louder, he said, "And you just let us hang around poking into everything because you knew we wouldn't have any luck?"

A nod. "Of course. Miguelito doesn't care if you search the ship. Actually, he welcomes it. He's proud of his beautiful designs." Antoinette stood and stepped away from the bench, spreading out her skirt. "I helped a little, especially with this room. It's our favorite."

"I see," Ray nodded. "Do you know where the second lever is? Out of curiosity, of course. I know you won't tell us where it is."

Antoinette gave him an entertained look. "Naturally, I know where it is. And you're right that I won't tell you. Why would I want to do anything to help you instead of Miguelito?"

"Why do you want to help him hurt so many innocent people?!" Ray could not refrain from exclaiming. "You seem like a nice girl."

Antoinette smirked at him. "Appearances can be deceiving, Mr. Norman."

"You mean about you being a nice girl? Or about you wanting to hurt innocent people?" Ray returned.

Coley crossed his arms, smirking a bit as well. This was an interesting confrontation.

Antoinette chose not to directly answer the query. "People are always hurt in any cause," she said. "I'm sure you feel that there were necessary casualties in your wars, even if there were some innocents caught up in them too. Well, Miguelito is waging a war of his own, a very important war."

"A very sick war, as far as I'm concerned," Ray retorted. "He clearly has the intelligence and abilities to do amazing things with his life, but he squanders them when he chooses instead to keep thinking of things such as what will be released on the Hall of Justice if that blasted lever is pulled!"

"He has to make a point," Antoinette said calmly. "Right now, he finds this the best way to do it."

Ray's lip curled in disgust. "I'm not going to stand around and debate his ideas or the purpose of this war of his," he said. "I can see there's no point." He turned to go.

Antoinette just shrugged, unaffected by his outburst. She stood and watched as Coley and Jane followed him out the door and into the hall. Then she turned, crossing the room to the harp.

"Nice," Coley commented as they re-entered the hall.

Ray ran a hand into his hair. "I don't know what came over me," he admitted. "Suddenly I was so furious. You know, I think she's more frightening than Dr. Loveless." He looked to Coley. "I suppose Dr. Loveless is out of his head, probably partially driven to that after the wretched life he's had, according to Mr. West. But the girl probably had a perfectly normal upbringing. And she can stand there and spout nonsense about Dr. Loveless waging an important war and not even care who gets hurt by it!"

Inside, they could hear Antoinette beginning a beautiful song on the harp.

"I think you're right," Coley said. "And you've proved that you still can be forceful, when it calls for it." He remembered that Ray had wondered whether he was even still capable of it after leaving his life of blackmail behind.

Ray nodded, managing a weak smile. "Yes . . . yes, I guess I can be."

Coley laid a hand on his shoulder. "Well, on to the next room."

Ray followed him, praying, as he did for each room, that the next one would bring them the good fortune they so desperately needed.


End file.

Wild Wild West, Adventure, Drama